Don't Breathe Too Deep
by hammergirl
Summary: preRENT: “She hasn’t really had a real boyfriend since my dad… and that was like, twenty five years ago.” Maureen's cold feet are reassured by her maid of honour, and Roger recieves a very shocking surprise. [Aug.03'04]
1. Chapter 1

DON'T BREATHE TOO DEEP  
  
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Summary: What if April didn't kill herself? What if Maureen didn't leave Mark? What if Collins didn't go to MIT? What if Benny didn't meet Alison? This, my friends, this.  
  
Author's Note: Alrighty. This is my first fic, so please bear with me in trying to figure out this site/this story. I'm gonna be brutally honest and say I'm just going with the flow for this. I got the idea and really liked it, so I have a basic outline for what's gonna happen, but not quite in detail. Please R&R - I want your opinions on my writing style, the plot, the characterizations and stuff! That's it! Enjoy!  
  
Disclaimer: These aren't my characters. They're Johnathan Larson's - the man, the muse, the mystery. I'm just borrowing them and screwing with their fictional lives, 'cause I'm cool like that!  
  
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Mark Cohen jogged up the stairs as silently as he could, laughing to himself. He reached the top and hid behind the connecting wall. He heard tiny footsteps pattering up the stairs behind him.  
  
"Mark! Wait for me!" a high pitched voice echoed up the stairwell. Mark continued to laugh to himself and prepared for the attack.  
  
"Where did you go now?" the feminine voice asked to herself, closer this time. Mark spun around, standing at the top of the stairwell, face to face with a small woman in the midst of reaching the top of the stairs. He picked her up and cradled her in his arms.  
  
"Mark! Put me down!" she laughed. Mark kissed her, spun her around in a circle, and plopped her on the ground in front of him.  
  
"I love you, Maureen Johnson." Mark said matter-of-factly, putting his arms around her small waist.  
  
"I love you, too, Pookie." Maureen kissed him, pulling him close to her. The couple walked down the narrow hallway to a large steel door. Mark pushed the door open and Maureen slid under his arm, pulling him inside. She took off her coat and tossed it on the nearby couch, and Mark did the same.  
  
The couple sat down on the other end of the battered couch. Mark put his arm around Maureen's shoulders and sighed.  
  
"What should we do tonight?" she asked, turning to face him. She swung her legs over his lap and snuggled in closer to him.  
  
"Whatever you like. We can watch a movie, we can make babies, whatever you want, babe."  
  
Maureen rolled her eyes. "Make babies? I think you've been hanging out with Roger too much." She rested her head on Mark's shoulder.  
  
"No making babies tonight, my friends." A deep voice came from behind them. Tom Collins, the anarchist-extrordinaire, emerged from his bedroom carrying a stack of papers. "If I'm in the place, there will be no baby-making." He plopped down on the scruffy, overstuffed easy chair placed close to the couch.  
  
"Oh, please. It's happened before and you know it." Maureen laughed, batting Mark away as he attempted to kiss her neck.  
  
"Ew." Collins simply replied, furrowing his eyebrows. He put his papers down on the old coffee table.  
  
"What are those?" Mark asked, giving up on Maureen and gesturing towards the stack of papers.  
  
"Essays. I told my students I'd mark 'em for next week. And seeing as they handed them in a couple months ago and I haven't touched them, I'd better get started." He grimaced.  
  
"Good luck."  
  
"Where's Benny tonight?" Collins asked, picking up the top essay and quickly flipping through it.  
  
Mark shrugged. "I talked to him this morning. He said he was gonna go out after work, so he's probably wherever by now."  
  
"Mmhmm. And Roger?"  
  
"Rehearsal with the band. Or with April. Or shooting up. Or all three. Who knows." Mark replied, pulling Maureen closer to him.  
  
"That boy has it coming." Collins said, shaking his head. "He thinks he's invincible. I used to be invincible, too. Now look where I am. AIDs. How does THAT work?"  
  
Maureen made a face. "But we've got you, you've got us, and we're all healthy. Everything'll be okay."  
  
Collins looked up at her and smiled. He didn't expect Maureen, the resident drama queen, to say something as heartfelt and touching as that. She was right. Everything will be okay. 


	2. Chapter 2

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Chapter 2

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A/N: Thanks for the reviews guys, they made my sick day. Chapters will get getting longer and longer as the story goes on and as stuff happens, but that was just like the hors d'oeuvres of the story. Why did I say that? Why am I still talking?

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Mark lay awake in bed the next morning, his arms wrapped tightly around Maureen as if he was afraid to let her go. He pulled her closer to him, and she sighed and stirred. 

__

She's so perfect, he thought to himself. Maureen awoke and stretched.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Watching you sleep."

"Mmm, freak." She resettled herself against Mark's shoulder and shut her eyes again, hoping to fall back asleep.

"I was thinking," Mark started. "We should do something tonight. Just you and me… since we kind of ended up putting little smiley face stickers on Collins' essays last night," he laughed.

Maureen pause before replying and wrinkling her nose.

"Um…" 

"Is that a yes?" Mark smiled. He poked her stomach gently, kissing the side of her head. Maureen forced a weak smile and took his hand in her own much smaller one.

"Maybe not tonight, Pookie," she told him. "I've gotta do something. But tomorrow, okay? Tomorrow, the whole day," she replied quickly, observing the affliction that crossed over his face.

"Yeah, sure," he replied, obviously hurt. "Sounds good." Mark did his best to put a smile on his face and sat up. "Go back to sleep. It's really early." 

Maureen did as she was told and rolled over, curling up into a ball under the covers. Mark got out of bed slowly and took a long look at Maureen. He shook his head and exited his bedroom out into the open loft where there was a strong scent in the air. Mark wrinkled his nose and sniffed. That was a new smell.

"Good morning, Sunshine," Benjamin Coffin the Third called from the small kitchen. He turned around with a cup of coffee in his hands.

"I didn't know we had a coffee maker." Mark made his away over to the kitchen and pulled a mug out of the sink, making sure it was at least partially clean before filling it up with coffee.

"We didn't," Benny replied, sitting down at the island that separated the kitchen from the rest of the loft.

"Oh," Mark yawned. He sat down on the other side of the island across from Benny and took a gulp of his coffee.

"I figured me and Collins could use a pick-me-up in the mornings. And Maureen and Roger are always so cranky when they wake up. Coffee makes everyone feel better."

Mark gave Benny a funny look. "Oh." He ran his fingers through his slightly shaggy blonde hair and attempted to make conversation. "What'd you do last night?"

"Went out with Sean, this guy from work. We went to some club… the Cat Scratch I think. Actually, it's pretty close to here. You ever been?"

"No." Mark shut his eyes.

"Well, there was this girl there – a dancer – and she was so hot. Like, really gorgeous." Benny finished off the rest of his coffee and placed the mug in the sink. "I was going to go back tonight. Want to come with me? Or are you filming again?"

"No, yeah I'll go." Mark remembered that he no longer had plans for tonight, so he had nothing 

to lose. He took another sip of his coffee. "I'll get Roger to come, too."

"Sure." Benny slipped his coat and gloves on and grabbed his keys. "Well, I'm off to work. See you around 8?"

"Yeah."

Benny shut the door behind him. Mark didn't really want to go out to Benny's club tonight. He wasn't one for that kind of thing. He figured as long as he wasn't spending time with Maureen he had nothing to lose. He left his half empty mug of coffee on the island and flopped down on the couch where he soon fell back asleep.

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"This better be good," Roger Davis complained, trying to rub feeling into his numb fingers. It was very cold out seeing as it was January, but Roger was just wearing his staple leather jacket.

"It will be. Just trust me, man," Benny replied as the three men walked briskly down the street. He stopped them in front of a slightly dilapidated building. 

"This is it." The music playing inside could be faintly heard outside.

Mark grimaced. "Fantastic."

They entered the building to be greeted by loud music and a wall of smoke. There was a stage near the back where a blonde girl was dancing for a crowd of men who were obviously very, very drunk.

"An S&M club, Benny? Jeeze…" Mark rolled his eyes and took the beer that Benny handed him. They sat down at an empty table and Roger slouched over in his seat.

"Like you and Maureen don't get kinky," Benny laughed, taking a gulp of a beer that he had taken off a tray in passing. Mark blushed.

"Oh good God!" Roger slammed his head down on the table top, his hand wrapped around his own beer bottle. "You pulled me out of a date with April to hear about Mark's sex life? No, scratch that, Mark's sex life with quite possibly the most annoying person in the world? No thank you." He stood up to leave, but Benny pulled him back down.

"Just stay. I'm sure getting high can wait a little longer, okay? I swear. This chick is hot. Like, hot hot."

Just as Benny said that, the crowd up front roared and a beautiful Latina girl came out onto the stage beginning to dance. Also on the stage was a lawn chair. 

"There she is! See?!"

"Yeah. We see, Benny." Mark rested his chin in his hand, thinking about Maureen and what she was doing.

"Isn't she gorgeous?" Benny's eyes were glued to the stage.

"Yeah, Benny. She's beautiful. Real sexy. She just looks like she's 16. And that's gross." Roger stood up. "I'm going to see April."

"…to get high." Mark said under his breath.

"Huh?"

"Nothing. See ya!" Mark replied brightly.

"Bye." Roger pushed Benny, who was practically drooling, and nodded at Mark who was off in his own world.

Roger pushed the heavy door open and stepped out onto the sidewalk. He shoved his hands into his pockets, fingering the plastic bag inside one of them. He smiled and walked quickly down the side streets until he found the subway station. He rose the train for what seemed like an eternity, and rushed off when it came to his stop. He practically ran down the streets until he came to a very short apartment building. He took two steps at a time up to the second floor to apartment 2C. The elevator would be too slow. He knocked gently on the door and opened it.

Sprawled on the couch flipping channels on the television, was a petite blonde woman of 24. April. She looked up at the sound of the door opening and smiled. 

"Hey," she greeted. She flipped off the TV and sauntered over to Roger. "I thought you were having a boys night?"

"Yeah, well… it was a bust." He kicked off his shoes. April wrapped her arms around Roger's neck and kissed him. "I'd rather be here with you, anyway."

April pressed herself against him. "What do we do now?" she whispered, looking up at him.

"Well, we could do this…" Roger said quietly. He leaned down to April's level, which was a good foot lower than him and kissed April deeply and passionately. She pulled away.

"Or—"

"Or we could do this…" Roger reached into his pocket and pulled out the bag of white power. April grinned and snatched it away from him, pulling him into her bedroom.

"Or we could do both."

"I like your thinking."


	3. Chapter 3

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Chapter 3

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A/N: Thanks for the reviews. I've been off school lately so that's why there are such frequent updates. But knowing me and my procrastinating ways, I'll update instead of studying for my exams or something. I've written chapter 4, but I'm not sure if I'm gonna use it or re-write it. But if I DO use it, some pretty wacky shiat is coming up soon! And to **Kelby**, I'm not much of an April fan, either.

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Roger woke up and sighed. His head was pounding and his body felt heavy. He looked over at the clock on April's bedside table. It was 4:30 in the afternoon. The late afternoon sunshine was peaking through a gap in the heavy curtains covering the windows. He covered his eyes with his arm and hit April in the process.

"Ow! What the hell Roger!"

He laughed to himself. "Sorry." He turned over slowly to face her. "You were awake?"

"I guess. How are you?" April squinted, noticing the ray of sunlight, too.

"Shitty. But better now that I'm with you." He grinned and pinched her cheeks.

"Loser," she laughed, slapping his hand away. She pulled the blankets up around her and Roger and shut her eyes, but remained awake. They lay like that for a little while longer occasionally sighing or sniffing. After a good half hour, April carefully sat up.

"I'm getting something to eat. Want anything?"

Roger grunted.

"Oh, okay." She stepped out of the bed and grabbed Roger's t-shirt from the night before. She put it on, and clipped her hair up behind her head. She walked into the kitchen, wincing at the sudden cold of the floor. She searched through her cupboards in the kitchen looking for something edible and returned to the room with a partially eaten box of Pop Tarts. She sat down on the foot of the bed and gently shook Roger.

"Do you like strawberry?" she whispered.

Roger grunted.

"Roger?" she asked a little louder.

Roger grunted.

"Roger!" April yelled loudly, jumping on her boyfriend.

"Ugh. . . April!" Roger tried to look mad, but failed miserably, putting his arms around April's waist. April kissed him, but her eye caught the clock on the table. She pushed herself up off the bed.

"Shit! Oh, shit!" She hopped off the bed, rummaging in her closet for some clothes.

"What? What is it?" Roger asked, slightly disappointed.

"Fuck. I was supposed to be at work – at the restaurant, like, four hours ago!" She was now wearing a pair of black pants and doing up the buttons of her white shirt.

"Call in sick. . ." Roger caught her hand as she searched the room for her purse. 

"I can't, Baby. Not again." She gave him a quick peck on the lips and rushed into the living room still looking for her purse. "Seth would kill me."

Roger sat up and grabbed his boxers from the floor. He put them on and followed April out into the living room. "You sure?" He put his arms around her waist from behind and kissed her neck. She turned around within the circle of his arms and kissed him back.

"Yeah. Help me find my bag?" She ducked under his arms and continued her search. 

Roger sighed a great dramatic sigh. "Sure – oh, is this it?" He picked up a red clutch purse from the coffee table.

April tore the purse out of his hand, as she walked to the other end of the small apartment. "Yeah, it is. Can't believe I missed that." She grabbed her blue jacket out of the closet and threw it on, then grabbed her keys off of the counter.

"I'll see you later, okay? I'll call you or something," April said quickly as she slid out the door and shut it behind her.

Roger stood in the middle of the apartment in a daze. "Alright," he replied, though he was sure that April must have been at work already considering the speed she zoomed out of the apartment.

He stretched his arms behind his back and turned to the bathroom. He stepped in, noticing it was much colder than the other rooms. He saw the window was open slightly and shut it. He didn't want April to get sick. He ran some water in the tub and switched on the shower. He stepped out of his boxers and hopped in. After a very long shower, Roger stepped out and wrapped the only towel he could find, which was very pink, around his waist. He ran his fingers through his short blonde hair and left the bathroom. He didn't want to leave and face his friends at the loft just yet. He knew they'd drill him with questions and ask why he was so late getting home, and he just didn't feel up to dealing with that right now.

Roger wandered around the empty apartment aimlessly. He cleaned up a bit, tidying up the kitchen, picking all the dirty clothes up off the floor, even making the bed. 

'What the hell am I doing? I'm turning into Benny. . .' he thought. It's not that Roger didn't like Benny, he did. He, Mark and Roger were all really good friends. Benny just isn't somebody he'd want to emulate. Roger dropped the dishtowel he had in his hand back on the counter and leaned against it. He looked at everything she had on her fridge.

Roger laughed. "What a pack rat," he thought aloud. There was a calendar from last year, old birthday cards from her parents, doctor's appointment slips, a picture of her long gone cat, Indiana Jones, work schedules ranging from two years ago to this week, among other things.

Roger hated that April almost always had to work. When she didn't, though, she was usually dealing with her parents, who always wanted to know how she was doing, when they could get together for lunch, whether she was still seeing Roger. They didn't like Roger. They thought he wasn't good enough for their daughter, "born and raised in the Upper East Side, you know". Roger rolled his eyes. He didn't care for them, much, anyway.

Roger finally decided he needed to get back to the loft. He missed Lola. He went back into April's bedroom and quickly changed back into his clothes from the last night. He threw his jacket back on and stepped into his old trainers, and he jogged down the stairs back to the street. He realized it was much colder, so did the zipper on his jacket up to the top, keeping his hands warm in his pockets. 

He walked unconsciously back to the corner of 11th Street and Avenue B. When he reached the tall industrial building, he slowly walked up the stairs, trying to think of a good excuse to use. Mark hated the fact that Roger was so into drugs. It sparked many fights which were usually ignored or forgotten about afterwards.

He and April went to lunch and spent the rest of the afternoon walking through Central Park. That's what he'd say. Mark would have to believe that. He had no proof of anything else. Roger smiled to himself and reached the door of the loft, pushing it open. Inside was Collins sitting at the island reading through a stack of papers.

"Hey, man." Roger called.

Collins looked up from his work. "Hi. Where've you been?" he asked, turning his attention back to the papers. 

"Lunch with April."

Collins looked up, shocked. He raised an eyebrow and studied Roger before shrugging and returning to his work. "Okay."

Roger sat down beside the older man and folded his hands together. 

"You don't believe me."

"No, Roger, I don't." Collins didn't even look up.

"Why?"

"Because it's you, Roger."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Roger's temper was slowly climbing.

"You can't afford to go to lunch."

"April can."

"Just be careful."

Roger rolled his eyes, ignoring the teacher's warning. He was only four years older than him. What could he possibly know that Roger didn't?

Roger stood up, and grabbed Lola, his Fender, who was leaning against the wall. He sat down on the couch, resting his feet on the coffee table and began tuning it.

After about 15 minutes of essay marking and guitar playing, Mark came into the loft. He gently placed his video camera on the coffee table. When he saw Roger, he stopped dead in his tracks.

"You're back."

Roger looked up. "Yeah, I am."

"Where were you?" Mark took off his coat and shoes.

"Out to lunch with April." Roger half expected Collins to react to that, but he didn't. He just kept marking.

"Oh." Mark tossed his coat aside and picked up his camera. He wasn't convinced.

"Why'd you leave so quickly last night?" he prodded.

"I missed April." Roger didn't look Mark in the eyes, just kept tuning his guitar.

"Missing shooting up with April?" Mark asked casually, walking over to his bedroom.

Roger sighed, putting down his guitar, and followed the filmmaker to his room, leaning against the door frame. "Sorry." 

"I know." Mark put his camera on top of his dresser, pretending to fiddle with it.

"I am. I'm gonna try and stop. I am."

Mark looked up at his friend. "Really?" 

"Yeah. I swear."

"For real?" 

"Yeah."

"REALLY?"

Roger laughed. "YES, Mark!"

Mark let out a sigh of relief. "Good. I'm sick of having to deal with it after you crash from a high, anyways."

"Thanks, man." Roger replied sarcastically.

"Oh, anytime!" Mark smiled and exited the room.

"Collins, has Maureen been home yet?" he asked, grabbing a juice box from the fridge and trying to get the straw out of the wrapping.

"Nope." The professor replied.

"Oh." Mark's morale dropped immediately. He continued to try to get the straw out of the plastic, hitting against the counter, hard. 

"You okay there?" Collins looked up finally. He took the straw from Mark and opened it with ease.

"Yeah." Mark grabbed the straw back and shoved it into the juice box, taking a long drink from it.

"Just dump her, dude." Roger called from the couch. "She's a bitch, anyway."

Mark sat beside his friend on the couch. "No she's not. You just don't like her."

"Because she's a bitch."

"YOU'RE a bitch."

Roger laughed. "You're weird."

Mark looked down, still drinking his juice.

"Mark, honestly. Just get rid of her. She's annoying, she's stupid, and she's a bitch."

"But – "

"No, just listen! She's manipulative and uses you as a sound man for her stupid little protests and –"

"Okay, just stop." Mark interrupted him quietly, not sounding particularly sad or angry.

"Sorry. . ."

"It's okay. Just. . .don't worry about it."

There was a pregnant, very awkward silence to follow. Roger didn't even touch his guitar which was still sitting in his lap. Collins continued marking, having heard the whole thing, and Mark fiddled with his juice box. He loosened the triangles on the bottom and the top, and set it on the table.

"What's that?" Roger asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

"A Juice Box Ninja."

"What?"

"A Juice Box Ninja. See?" Mark made a high pitched noise like Xena, and threw the box at Roger.

"Oh, gross! There was still juice in that!" Roger laughed and tossed it back at Mark. "I want one too!" He ran over to the fridge and took a juice box out, drinking it quickly and making his very own Juice Box Ninja. Collins, not wanting to be left out, left his work and made one, too. The afternoon dissolved into a game of Ninjas in the middle of the loft, with all thoughts of drugs and girlfriends forgotten.


	4. Chapter 4

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Chapter 4

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A/N: Thanks for the reviews! I'm glad you guys like this story. There's gonna be some craaaazy shiat near the end of the chapter, and you'll probably end up loving and/or feeling sorry for one character and hating another one. Brace yourself! 

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"I LOVE weekends." Benny stated, sprawled out on the loft floor on his stomach reading the Saturday newspaper. 

"Me too," Roger replied, picking out a tune on his Fender.

"You have weekends all week long, what are you talking about?" Collins shook his head from the island where he was drinking a cup of coffee and reading a book. He had his feet up on one of the stools adjacent to him.

"I still. . .like them. . .you know. . .they're fun. Besides, it's when I play most of my gigs! And I love gigs. And I love Lola. So I love weekends."

Benny threw what was left of his toast at Roger who started yelling at him, scared that there were crumbs on Lola.

Collins stood up and put his book down. "Well, I'm off. I got a date!" Collins smiled excitedly. He practically skipped over to the door.

"Where'd you meet this one?" Benny asked.

"At school. He works in the library." Collins replied, wrapping his scarf around his neck and putting his coat on.

"It's like a match made in nerd heaven or something. University professor and librarian." Benny teased.

Collins flipped him off jokingly. "See you later." He shut the door gently behind him.

Benny cleared his throat and rolled onto his back. "Speaking of dates, guess who has one tonight?"

"Gee, Benny, I don't know." Roger replied sarcastically, more interested in his Fender than in Benny's escapades. 

"That dancer. Mimi. Remember? The hot one? From the club."

"Oh, yeah, the teenager. Good luck with that one." Roger laughed, shaking his head.

"Whatever, man. She's fucking hot." Benny returned to his paper.

The phone rang. It rang about four times before Benny looked up at Roger who seemed to be ignoring it, concentrating on his notes. Benny rolled his eyes and sat up reaching over onto the chair where the cordless phone was last left.

"Hello?. . .What? No. . .but I've got t—. . .Fine, yeah. But not for long. . .When?. . .Alright. Bye."

Benny hung up the phone. He groaned and tossed the phone back onto the chair. 

"Fuck."

"What?" Roger humoured him.

"I've gotta go into work." Benny folded up the paper and dropped it onto the table.

"Oh no," Roger continued, plucking random notes out on his guitar, jotting something down on a piece of paper in front of him every once in a while.

Benny walked into his room and emerged a short while later dressed and ready to go. "I'll probably go straight to see Mimi after I finish up there, so, uh, have a good night."

"Yeah."

Benny soon left and Roger was left alone. He waited until he was sure Benny wouldn't be coming back if he forgot something. He stood up and placed his guitar against the couch, moving swiftly and quietly. He wasn't sure who he was trying not to disturb, but if he disturbed them, there'd be hell. He'd go to the park and pick up some smack before he went to rehearsal with the band, he'd go see April, they'd get so high and fuck like bunnies. Nobody would ever know. 

Roger put his coat on and shut the door quietly behind him. Nobody would ever know.

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Later that night, Maureen lay in a sleeping Mark's arms in the bed that they had been sharing for the past eleven months. They were out filming around the city all morning, and when they came home to an empty loft later in the afternoon, they figured they could take advantage of it.

Maureen pulled the covers up around her and sighed. 'God, I'm a horrible girlfriend. Who does this?' she thought. She promised Mark she'd spend the entire day with him yesterday, but instead what did she do? She woke up before Mark and snuck out of the loft early to pick up random strangers in bars. She didn't know why. She loved Mark, she did. She was lucky she had him. But she couldn't help herself. Sometimes she just wanted other people, too. Maureen felt guilty for hurting Mark, and he didn't even know it.

Maureen quickly shook those thoughts from her head. She didn't want to dwell on them. She carefully untangled herself from Mark's grasp and got out of bed. She searched for something to put on, settling on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. 

Maureen made her way into the kitchen and looked for something besides beer to drink. 'I could have sworn there were a bunch of juice boxes here yesterday,' she thought. She shrugged it off, filling a glass with tap water and sat at the island, drumming her nails on the surface as she took a sip. The clock on the microwave read 9:30pm. A small knock came from the other side of the door. Maureen shuffled over to the other side of the loft and opened it. April was on the other side, her blonde hair dishevelled and her eyes red and puffy as if she'd been crying. 

April looked up, like she was surprised to see Maureen.

"Hey," her small voice started.

"Oh my God, sweetie! Are you okay?!" Maureen put her arm around April's shoulders and guided her to the couch, pushing the door shut behind her. "What happened?"

April shook her head and pulled out of Maureen's grasp. She started to cry again. Maureen grabbed the box of tissues from the kitchen and handed it to her. She didn't know what to do. She wasn't good at this kind of thing. She wasn't the motherly type.

April moaned and dropped her head into her hands.

"Wanna. . .talk? April?" Maureen tried to get April's attention.

"Is Roger here?" April managed to say between gasping breaths.

Maureen was scared. She had never dealt with something like this before. She shook her head 'no,' eyes wide with fear.

April stood up shakily and walked aimlessly over to the kitchen, then back to the couch.

"Oh God. . ."

"Sweetie, come here. Sit here." Maureen pulled April down to the couch beside her. April crossed her arms over her stomach and leaned against the arm of the couch. 

Maureen rubbed April's back for the next couple minutes while she cried. Finally, April swiped at her tears and sat up, shaking Maureen off.

"April? You're scaring me. . ."

"I—" She took a deep breath. "Oh God. . ."

"You don't have to tell—"

"Maureen. . .I. . ." April started shaking and looked around the loft.

"I have AIDS."

Maureen did a double take. "W—what?"

"Don't make me say it again." April started to cry again.

"Honey, what—how did this happen?" 

"I don't know. . .just. . .shit happens."

"But what, was it like some guy or what?"

"W—well. . .I dunno. . ."

Maureen gave April a worried look. "I should get Mark—"

"No! No, you can't. You can't, okay? Don't tell anybody. Nobody. Not until Roger knows. He has to get tested, too, and– God, he's gonna hate me, Maureen. What the hell am I supposed to do? I can't. . ." April's outburst finished with a new set of tears.

Maureen put a gentle hand on her back, but April shrugged it off again.

"No. . .it's just. . .I'm gonna die, Maureen. What the hell. God, this isn't fair. I don't even know wh—" April whimpered, falling into Maureen's lap.

Maureen hesitantly rubbed April's back as she broke down. She didn't know what else to do. The two women had never been very close, having known each other for only about three months, and even then, through each other's boyfriends, but this had sparked a new found friendship. Maureen wasn't sure if April wanted to be telling all of this to her of all people, but was kind of glad that if she told anyone, it was her.

It must have been 11:00 pm when the door opened and Roger came through, carrying his guitar and singing to himself. His disposition changed immediately when he saw April crying. He rushed over to her side. 

"April?"

"Roger, just leave her—"

"Shut up, Maureen," he yelled sharply. "April. . .baby, what's wrong?" He tried to push some of her hair behind her ears to see her face.

April sat up and looked at Roger. He tried to grab her hand but she pulled away standing up quickly. She was dizzy and couldn't see straight but she needed to get away from Roger. She couldn't deal with everything right now. Maureen stood up, holding on to April's arm to support her, but she pulled out of her grasp and pushed past Roger to the door.

"Where are you going? What's going on?" Roger's eyes followed April.

"Just. . .don't. . .Roger, just leave me alone. I can't. . ." And with that, April was out the door, running as fast as she could.

Roger made a move for the door, but Maureen pulled him back. 

"Roger, don't." She said quietly.

"Why the hell shouldn't I?" he yelled, pushing her off, heading for the door.

"Shh, Mark's sleeping." She pulled him back again.

Roger spun around, his eyes filled with anger. "I don't give a fuck! What the hell is going on with April? Why the fuck won't she tell me?"

"Relax, Roger. Just, keep your voice down."

"Relax?! Why the hell won't anybody tell me? What did I do?" Roger asked, quieter this time, but still harshly.

"Nothing— well, maybe everything. I don't know."

Roger shoved Maureen. She stumbled backwards, but kept her balance. Roger moved closer to her. "What— why the fuck won't you tell me?"

"I can't."

"I have the fucking right to know, she's my fucking girlfriend!"

"Oh, stop it, Roger. She's a fucking human being and deserves a hell of a lot more respect than you do, but that's another story all together." Maureen rolled her eyes and placed her hands on her hips.

Roger pushed her again. "God, I fucking hate you. I fucking hate you so much, you know that? You're a fucking bitch and I don't know how the fuck you scored Mark, but if you hurt him, I will kill you."

"I know you don't like me, and I don't like you either, but if you ever talk to me like that again—" Maureen replied calmly, though her stomach was churning and she felt that her legs were about to give out under her.

Roger pushed her again, harder this time, and she landed against the wall. He pinned her there with his hands on her shoulders. 

"You'll what, Maureen? Tell me what the fuck you'll do."

Maureen winced as Roger pushed harder on her shoulders. It hurt, but she continued speaking as though nothing was wrong.

"I don't know, but I do know that Mark wouldn't like to hear that his best friend was coming onto his girlfriend. That he pushed her and got up against her and touched her and tried to—"

Roger's eyes narrowed. "He'd believe his best friend over you," he scoffed.

"Let's see." Maureen whispered. "Mark!" she screamed. "Get off of me— Mark! Help!" She screamed his name over and over again.

Roger pushed her harder as she screamed, and said in a low voice, "Shut the fuck up. Do not do this, Maureen. I will make you're life a fucking living hell."

She gave him a syrupy-sweet smile as she yelled Mark's name one more time, as loud and as urgent-sounding as she could.

At the same time, Roger threatened Maureen through clenched teeth. "I'm gonna fucking—"

Mark staggered into the room tying up his pyjama pants. His eyes bugged out of his head when he saw what was happening. Roger let go of Maureen, who ran to Mark.

"What the hell is going on here?" Mark asked.

"God, Mark." Maureen cried into her boyfriend's shoulder.

"Mark. . ." Roger began, shaking his head quickly.

"What the hell were you doing?" Mark directed at Roger, placing an arm around the now hysterical Maureen.

"No-no-no! It's not like tha—"

"What the fuck is your problem?" Mark asked, this time louder. Maureen stumbled away and disappeared into the bedroom.

"Mark, I would never—"

"I thought you didn't like her! Was that all just, just a lie? Are you, like, waiting to fuck her on the side? What the fuck, Roger, just. . .get the hell away. Just go, okay? You're sick and your crazy and get the fuck away from us!" Mark yelled, inching towards Roger.

Roger gave up and threw his arms in the air.

"Fine. Fine! God. . ." He fumed as he pulled the door open hard so it slammed shut behind him.

Mark sighed, rubbing his temples with his hand. He was shaking. He quickly returned to the bedroom to find Maureen sitting against the headboard, hugging her knees at her chest. "Are you okay?" He sat beside her and pulled her over to him, putting an arm around her. Maureen wiped at her tears and sniffed.

"Yeah — I—I mean, I am now." She continued to shiver and new tears formed.

"Oh my God. I can't believe I didn't see it. I'm so sorry, Maureen. I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault, Pookie. He's just an asshole. He needs like, anger management."

Mark shook his head and put his fingers to her lips. 

"No, it was my fault. I should have noticed it."

"Mark, no. It wasn't your fault, trust me. It was him. He's Roger. . .you know how he gets. . ."

Mark nodded and pulled her close. "I just. . .I can't believe he would do something like that! To you. . .to me—I was in the other room for Christ's sake! I could just kill him—"

Maureen silenced him with a kiss. "It's okay, Pookie, he's gone and it's just us."

"I know. I just, can't believe I didn't see it—" Maureen kissed him.

"—all this time. And him, of all people—" She kissed him again.

"—my best friend—" Again.

"—why does he have to make everything about him—"

"Mark," she cut him off, kissing him again.

"Yeah?" he replied, returning her kisses.

"Shut up." She kissed him again, untying his pyjama pants.


	5. Chapter 5

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Chapter 5

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A/N: Thanks again for all your reviews, guys. I also find it hard to be mad at any of the characters. I love Roger because in my head, he always looks like Adam Pascal (swoon), but I can't be mad at Maureen because she's so cool. And I sure can't be mad at Mark, because he's Matt Caplan, and Matt Caplan is so cute! Anywhore, enjoy this chapter!

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----------------

April put the stopper in the bathtub and sat on the toilet seat waiting for it to fill. She wiped her eyes for what seemed like the millionth time. 

__

'How could I be so stupid? How'd this happen? Was this my fault? Probably was. Yeah, it was.'

She dropped her head into her hand and prayed that the water would hurry up. She tapped her foot impatiently and stood up quickly. She double-checked that she had what she needed. She looked to the ledge beside the sink, where a new pink razor was carefully placed. She picked it up and put it back down shakily, making sure this was all real. 

April shut her eyes tightly as more tears rolled down her still wet cheeks. She clamped down on them, hoping to stop the tears all together. Looking back at the bathtub, April realized it wasn't even half full. She leaned against the counter and crossed arms over her chest taking shallow breaths.

__

'This is all that's left. What else can I do? I'm going to die anyway. So's Roger." 

Roger. She completely forgot about Roger. She had to warn him, had to tell him about her big mistake. 

April stepped out of the bathroom and into the living room. She looked around for a pen and piece of paper. Still shaking violently, she found a pen sitting on a side table. Her heart was beating fast and she felt like her lungs were going to shut down. She stepped up onto the ledge to the small kitchen and pulled something off the fridge. She didn't care what it was, it didn't matter anymore. She put the blue pen to the paper and quickly wrote 'We've got AIDS.' She couldn't write anymore, she felt like she would throw up. She stepped back down from the kitchen, using the counter for support. She shut her eyes and felt her way to the bathroom. When she felt the tile under her bare feet, she dropped the note, which fluttered into the sink. She didn't have the strength to move it from there, so let it be.

Her eyes shifted to the bathtub. It was just over half full of water. She didn't know how long to let it fill, so she shut it off figuring it would be fine. She picked up the razor, grasping it tightly in her shaking hands. She rolled up her sleeves, and traced with her finger where she would make the cuts. 

__

'From wrist to elbow,' she mentally reminded herself. 

April realized that she was still fully dressed. _'Is that okay?'_ She was nervous. She'd never done anything like this before. She was bought up as a white bread, soccer practice, Disney movie kind of kid. She was going to be a teacher. She had a Bachelor of Arts in English. She was going to marry Roger and they were going to settle down and move into a little house in the suburbs with two kids and a dog and a picket fence and a mini van.

April tried to take a deep breath, but found she couldn't lift her legs to step into the tub. She swallowed hard, dropping the razor into the water and fell to the ground, shaking and crying.

__

'Stop it, April. Stop it. Just do it. Do it, and it'll be over. A bit of pain, and that's that.'

She shook her head and stood up. The door. She had to lock the door.

__

'Stop stalling. Just do it.'

April quickly walked to the door, and gripping the door knob tightly, she locked it. She never locked her doors unless she was out. People wouldn't be able to get in and see her stupidity. God, she was so stupid. She hated herself for screwing up her and Roger's lives like this. She needed to do it.

She turned on her heel with a sudden sense of empowerment and took long strides to the bathroom. 

__

'Here goes everything. . .'

Halfway across the room, she heard a knock on the door and a muffled voice call from out in the hall.

"April?"

The muffled voice was Roger. He tried to open the door, but couldn't. She stopped dead in her tracks. She couldn't answer it. She would have to tell him and he would hate her.

"April? Baby? Are you there? Why's the door locked?"

April stood still hoping he would go away if she didn't make any noise. She was silent for a few seconds when she heard a key in the lock. She shut her eyes tightly.

__

'How did he get in? I didn't know he had a key. How did he know I was here? This isn't real. None of this is real. I'm going to wake up at the loft with Roger, and we'll be happy, and there won't be anymore drugs, and –'

The door creaked open.

"April. . .What the hell is going on?" Roger asked, not angry or harsh, just curious.

April slowly turned around and suddenly collapsed to the ground. Roger ran to her and took her in his arms. 

"April. April?"

She could feel the heavy tears rolling down her cheeks uncontrollably.

"April what's happening? What's wrong?"

She sniffed and reached up to touch his face.

"Roger. . ."

"Baby, what is it? What?" he pushed the now wet hair out of her face and kissed her forehead. "Tell me. Please."

"I c-can't," her voice quivered. She stood up carefully, shaking Roger off. She raised a finger to him, motioning for him to stay there and she went into the bathroom. She crumpled the note, dropping it in the garbage, and shut the bathroom door. No use for any of that now. She looked at Roger, then the couch where she took a seat. Roger followed her and sat beside her, putting a reassuring hand on her knee.

"No, Roger!" she screamed. "No! Just, no! Okay? Fuck!" April brought her knees up to her chest and leaned against Roger, who didn't know how to react. Every time he tried to touch her she would pull away or yell. He slowly put his arms around her and April cried into his shoulder. He combed his fingers through her hair.

April whimpered and Roger pulled her closer, holding her like a baby. He rocked her back and forth as she cried, not saying anything, until they both fell asleep.

-----------------

The next afternoon, the loft was filled with Mark, Benny and Collins. Mark lay on the couch, holding his camera in the air, watching the footage of his day of filming yesterday. Benny and Collins sat at the island, eating left over Chinese food from weeks ago.

"This is disgusting," Collins complained, poking at what was either chicken or a pile of rice stuck together by God knows what.

"Suck it up. It'll make you stronger. Besides, it's all the same in here." Benny patted his stomach. He didn't care what he ate as long as he ate. 

Collins made a face and dumped his plate of food onto Benny's. "You're gross." Benny shrugged, delighted that he now had more food. Collins tossed the plate in the sink and turned his attention to Mark. 

"Where's Roger?"

Mark shrugged. "Don't care."

"Oh." Collins near Mark on the chair, picking up the cartoons from the Sunday morning paper. "What he do?"

"He's just a jerk."

"Wanna talk about it?" Collins opened the section of paper and began to read, not thinking Mark would respond.

Mark sat up, dropping his camera at his side, but making sure he didn't hurt it before he started to talk. 

"Yeah, I do. See? That's something he would never do. Tell me anything. Like how he's still into drugs. Or like how he got April into it, too. Or like how he wanted Maureen so bad that he had to go behind my back and come onto her, thinking I wouldn't find out." 

Collins looked up over his cartoons and Benny was staring at him from the kitchen.

"Oh."

"What? That's all you can say? My best friend won't tell me anything then tries to hurt my girlfriend, and all you can say is 'oh'?!"

"Mark, you know how Roger is. . ." Benny shook his head, turning back to his food.

"Why is that all people can say to me? You! Maureen! Yeah I know how he is! He's a jackass!" Mark stood up and threw his entire body into his rant, storming around the loft. "He's supposed to be my friend! Friends help friends stay out of drugs. He won't let me do that, because he's too busy fucking his junkie girlfriend and wanting to fuck mine, too! He's making everything about him and forgets that other people are around!" Mark stopped pacing and his arms flopped at his sides. He gave a big shrug and scratched the back of his head. "Never mind." He sat down on the couch and crossed his arms over his chest.

After an awkward silence, Collins spoke up. "How did you find all of this out?"

"Well yesterday, last night, I was asleep, and I heard Maureen screaming. So I get in here, and Roger's pressing her up against the wall and she's crying and crying. So I yelled at him and he freaked out and left. And later, Maureen, she told me what he was doing. He was pushing her around and trying to touch her and kiss her. What the hell kind of friend does that? And then this morning when I woke up, I found that near the door where Roger was standing." Mark jerked his thumb to a bag of white powder that was lying on the coffee table. Nobody had asked where it came from earlier for fear of sparking a fight.

"Don't worry, Mark. We'll sort this all out later when he's back, okay?" Collins gave Mark a reassuring look.

Mark shrugged and leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms. Sort what out? The fact the his so-called 'best friend' was a lying bastard?

Within a couple minutes, the door burst open and Maureen came in. Mark's face immediately lit up and he greeted her with a hug and a kiss.

"Hey," he smiled.

She giggled. "Hey," and she kissed him again.

Mark helped her out of her coat, and they sat on the couch. Mark immediately placed his arms around her waist and started kissing her.

"Get a room!" Benny called, dropping his empty plate into the sink and running water over it.

Maureen rolled her eyes. "Shut up, Benny." She rested her head on Mark's shoulder and ran her fingers over the thigh of his jeans. Mark made a face at Benny who sat down on the arm of Collins' chair, who was now intent on a crossword puzzle.

"How was your date with Mimi or Gigi or whatever her name was?" Mark asked, gently dropping his head against Maureen's.

"Mimi. Yeah, it was good. It's funny, I thought she was gonna wanna go out or something, you know? But she was just like 'yeah, let's just stay in and watch a movie or something.' So that's what we did. Among other things. . ."

"Oh, gross Benny! Some of us just ate! Even though we're not sure what the hell it was. . ." Collins replied, hiccuping and covering his mouth. Even though he was 27, Collins could definitely be the kid of the group.

"Anyway," Benny said a bit louder, ignoring Collins' comment. "I've got another date with her later this week. So that'll be good. . ." He trailed off, noticing that Collins was trying to figure out an eleven letter word for 'fanciful,' and Mark and Maureen were all over each other on the couch.

He sighed and stood up, turning around back to his bedroom. If no one cared about his date with Mimi, he could at least get some work done.

"Where're you going?" he heard Collins' voice ask. Collins always cared. He wondered how he did it.

"I figured I'd go do some work. You know, some of us have JOBS!" Benny directed the last part to Mark and Maureen. Mark broke away from Maureen, who continued kissing his neck.

"Hey, me and Mo live off the land."

"Living off the land in new York is eating garbage, Mark." Collins pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

"Fine, we live off YOUR land." He gave up on everybody and sat back. He took Maureen's hand in his own. "Where'd you go ?"

"Um, I wanted to give you some time to get me a birthday present!" She smiled and tucked her feet under her.

"Hmm. Speaking of which. . .you guys'll be at the Life tomorrow night for supper, right?" Mark asked the other two.

"For my birthday!" Maureen added with a grin.

"Yup."

"Yeah. Hey, mind if I bring Noah?"

"As in 'and his Arc'?" Maureen asked, giggling. Everybody looked over at her with weird glances and Mark answered Collins.

"Yeah, sure."

"The guy from the library?" Benny asked.

"Yeah," Collins dropped his crossword puzzle on the table, figuring he wasn't going to get any of it done anyway. "He's really great. You guys'll like him." He put his feet up on the coffee table.

"Ooh, is he hot?" Maureen asked, getting more interested in the conversation.

Collins laughed, "Oh yeah."

"That's my boy!" she smiled, reaching over Mark to pat Collins on the leg. Mark nuzzled her shoulder. 

"I'm hot, too, right?" he asked quietly.

"Of course, baby." Collins teased him, answering in an equally quiet, but much deeper voice.

Benny jumped off the arm of the chair where he was still perched and shook his head, laughing. "This is getting weird. I'm going for a walk. Ciao." He took his green coat out of the closet and left.

Maureen stood up. "Ah, ciao bella!" She put on an Italian accent and blew a kiss to Benny, clobbering Mark and Collins.


	6. Chapter 6

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Chapter 6

"Hey, man," Mark greeted Benny as he approached the table that he and Maureen were seated in the Life Cafe. A long booth ran across the back wall with tables situated in front of them and chairs at the tables.

"Hey guys," Benny took off his coat and dropped it onto the back of his chair. "Happy almost birthday, Mo."

Maureen smiled back at him.

"What's up?" Mark asked.

"Not a lot. Work, y'know. How long have you been here?"

"Not long, like, a couple minutes," Maureen piped up. She didn't like to be left out of a conversation.

"When are Collins and Noah getting here?" Benny plopped down on his chair.

Mark glanced down at his watch. It was 9:30. "He said after they get off work. Collins' last class was at 5, I think, and Noah leaves the library around 9, so very soon, I would guess." He snaked his arm around Maureen's waist. He had become very protective of her ever since the incident with Roger.

"Cool."

A young man wearing a white apron made his way to the table. "Hey guys."

"Hey Eddie," the group answered.

"How you guys doing?" he asked, taking a pad of paper and a pen out of one of the pockets of his apron.

"Pretty good," Mark replied for the group.

"Good to hear! You guys ready to order?"

Benny looked around at the other two. "Just drinks for now?" he asked. They nodded in agreement. They ordered their drinks, all alcoholic except for Mark, who decided somebody needed to be the sober one, lest Benny resort to crawling home from the Life like the last time they all got drunk. Eddie wrote down their orders and left the three to their own devices. He returned almost immediately with their drinks and when he found out it was Maureen's birthday, brought her out a big glass of beer 'on the house.'

As the three took sips of their drinks, Benny looked over at Maureen. "Bet you can't chug that whole thing."

She raised an eyebrow at him. Did he know who he was talking to? "Bet you I can."

Mark laughed and rolled his eyes.

Benny smiled mischievously. "What are we betting on?"

Maureen thought for a moment. "If I win, I get anything of yours that I want."

"And if I win?"

"Then you get whatever you want of mine," she replied quickly.

"Okay. On three?" 

Maureen nodded. 

"One. . .two. . .three!"

Maureen threw her head back as she drank as fast as she could. Benny was trying to make her laugh and spit her drink out, while Mark cheered her on.

As she was chugging, Collins entered the restaurant with Noah. Collins shook his head and pointed to the loud group making a racket. 

"Those are my friends."

Noah laughed while brushing his dark brown curls out of his eyes. "Looks like a. . .colourful group of people."

"Yup, that's them."

Mark noticed Collins and the shorter man approaching them and waved. The two men set down at the table, watching Maureen still drinking. As she finished, she slammed the glass on the table. 

"HAH!"

"Hey birthday girl, give Tommy some sugar!" Collins laughed, leaning over the table to kiss Maureen who giggled.

Benny wrinkled his nose and peered into the glass. 

"It's not empty."

Maureen looked up, shocked, and immediately a frown replaced her smile.

"Yes it is."

"No it isn't."

"Yes, it is!"

"Professor?" Mark intercepted the glass as it was about to be grabbed by both Benny and Maureen and handed it to Collins. He laughed, pushing his long dreadlocks over his shoulder.

"Sorry, Mo."

Maureen made a small noise of shock, and tore the glass out of his hand, passing it to Noah.

Noah laughed, "Uh, I'm gonna say there's nothing left because she looks like she might kill me if I say otherwise. . ."

"See! This man is smart!" Maureen leaned across the table and kissed him on the cheek.

Mark pulled her back down to her seat by the belt loop on her red leather pants and reminded the group of their bet. 

"So, Benny, what do you want from Maureen?"

"Ah, lemme think about it a while," he said, taking another sip of his drink. He passed the menus around the table.

"Guys, this is Noah. Noah, these are. . .the guys! Benny, Maureen, and Mark." Collins introduced everybody as they said their hellos. They scanned the menu, and since most of them already knew what they wanted, Collins and Benny gave Maureen their birthday presents for her (a box of cupcakes from the bakery by NYU from Collins and 'the joy of basking in the smile that is Benny's. ')

When Eddie realized more people had joined the first three, he headed over to their table and took his notepad back out. 

"Hey Collins. Date?" Eddie asked.

Collins laughed and nodded. "Noah."

"Hey, I'm Eddie. Can I get you two drinks?"

"Actually, I think we're ready to order," Collins said, looking back up from the menu.

"Roger sick?" Eddie asked, noticing a member of the usual crowd was absent.

An awkward silence fell over the group and eyes shifted from person to person. Mark leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms. 

"Nope, just out, I guess." Benny finally replied, shrugging.

Eddie realized he struck a wrong chord and quickly took down everybody's orders. He disappeared into the kitchen and the group of five returned to their previous shenanigans. 

"Who's Roger?" Noah asked.

"Roommate," Collins replied quickly.

"So, Noah, tell me about yourself." Maureen leaned in, slurring her words slightly.

"Well, I'm 26, and I work at the library at NYU, as I'm sure Collins has already told you," he laughed nervously. "Actually, I used to produce independent films, but you know, my interests changed, so now I'm doing this until I figure out my next career move."

"Produced independent films, eh?" Mark asked. Soon, the conversation broke apart into groups. Mark and Noah talked about Mark's filming and films that Noah had produced, and Maureen and Benny continued playing drinking games as Collins observed, laughing.

Eddie brought their food to the table and distributed it. Everybody immediately dug in.

"So what do all of you do?" Noah asked, waiting for his chilli to cool down.

Benny started describing his job at the law firm, and how he was thinking of going to work for the group's landlord, Mr. Grey, but Maureen couldn't be less interested. Her eyes drifted around the restaurant. She was really impressed with herself for creating such a rift between Mark and Roger. She never liked Roger. He was always suspicious of her, even since the first day she and Mark started to date. The first day she had moved into the loft he told her that he hated her guts and hoped she got hit by a car. She didn't even know why, she hadn't said anything to him all day. He always treated her like she was a ditzy pervert. Sure, that's how she acted sometimes, but appearances are deceiving. She picked up some of her nachos and grimaced, dropping them back down on the plate. She wasn't very hungry. Her eyes continued to drift from table to table then to the door. Uh-oh.

"Oh my God. . ." Maureen whispered.

"What is it?" Mark asked. Benny was talking Noah's ear off.

"Uhh. . ." Her eyes were glued to the hostess' podium. "I dropped my earring." Maureen ducked below the table quickly.

Mark lifted the tablecloth, watching her search for the apparent earring. "Your ears aren't pierced—" 

The men all looked towards the empty seat that was Maureen's.

"Mo?" Collins asked. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she answered quietly from her seat underneath the table.

Benny rolled his eyes. "Classic Maureen."

"Huh?" Noah asked.

"She's so weird. Seriously. Just wants attention." He lifted a heaping forkful of his pasta in the air.

Noah laughed to himself and looked under the table. "You alright under there?"

Maureen looked up to him, a look of horror on her face. She nodded.

"You sure? Did you find your earring?"

Maureen shook her head slowly, pretending to search the ground again. "It was really little."

He shrugged, turning his attention back to his now cool chilli.

"Come on, Mo. You don't even have pierced ears! What are you doing?" Mark pulled her back up to the booth by her arm.

"Sorry, um, I forgot!" she laughed, downing her second drink quickly.

"Okay then."

"Are you gonna eat those or not?" Benny asked, stealing a nacho from her plate.

The four men returned to their banter and food, while Maureen, who polished off her second drink and ordered another, remained quiet. She could have sworn that was the woman she was with yesterday.

------------------

Back at the loft, Roger sat on the island, quietly strumming his guitar. He and April woke up early that morning on her couch. April had refused to tell Roger why she was crying, but did profess that 'it was all her fault.' When he questioned her about 'it' and suggested pregnancy, she just replied, 'God, no.'

They spent the whole day in her bed, Roger just holding her. When he needed to use the bathroom, he noticed the full bathtub and the razor. 'Were you gonna take a bath?' he asked. April shuddered and curled into a ball under the covers.

April asked Roger to stay with her that night. She told him that she didn't want to be alone. He said he would, but he just wanted to grab some stuff from the loft, first. She went with him. She didn't trust herself to be alone anymore.

They walked to the loft, April clinging to Roger's arm. She hadn't said very much the whole day, but Roger hadn't noticed. She was a pretty quiet person to begin with. They reached the loft at about 8:00 at night. 

__

'Where's Maureen and everyone?' April asked quietly. 

'Out for her birthday. They wanted us to come, too, but y'know. . .' Roger didn't tell her about what happened after she ran out of the loft the night before. He figured she had enough on her mind as it was.

Roger grabbed some clothes from his bedroom, his guitar, and took Mark and Maureen's box of condoms, just to piss them off. He was set to go when he found April asleep in his bed. He didn't want to wake her, so left her there while he played his guitar in the living room.

Roger had replayed his whole situation with Mark over in his head. Why didn't he believe him? He would never do anything like that to him. Sure, he thought Maureen was drop dead gorgeous, but he wouldn't hit on her. She was Mark's girlfriend. Mark was his best friend. _Was._

At about 9 o'clock, Roger had contemplated writing a song entitled 'Maureen You're A Stupid Bitch And I Hope You Burn In Hell,' but decided against it at 9:15 when he couldn't figure out a decent enough rhyme for the lyric 'If I'm ever behind you on a flight of stairs, I don't know what I'd do.'

He had lost all track of time, rehearsing songs from the Well Hungarians and singing along quietly so as not wake April. He heard voices coming from outside the loft, including very loud female and male voices yelling. Maureen and Benny. Shit. They were back.

Before he could jump down from the island and shut himself up in the bedroom with April, the door swung open and he heard Maureen yelling.

"I'm NOT going to give you my underwear, Benny!"

"But the deal was anything! And that's a anything!"

The two were obviously very drunk, tripping over each other as they stumbled into the loft. Mark followed them in. None of them had even noticed Roger yet. _'If I move quiet enough, they would never—"_

"Roger!" Benny exclaimed, opening his arms and coming towards Roger.

"Roger, my man. Underwear is anything, right?" He smacked Roger on the back and sat next to him on a stool.

Mark glared at Roger and Maureen was on the floor trying to pull her boots off with both her hands.

"Uh, yeah, I guess so." Roger answered, looking down at his Fender.

"SEE! HE agrees!" 

"Yeah, he would." Mark commented, bending down to help Maureen out of her shoes.

"Now that's the problem with the world today!" Benny started in on Roger. "Nobody thinks underwear matters anymore, but come on! If everybody just realized. . ." Roger shushed Benny, but he continued, at least talking quieter.

Mark helped a thoroughly sloshed, and very giggly, Maureen into their bedroom. He sat her down on the bed, where she stretched out and yawned. Mark searched through the dresser at the foot of their bed to find something more comfortable than the leather pants that she was currently wearing for her to wear to sleep. He passed her a pair of his pyjama pants, not being able to find anything else, and sat up on the bed giving her a concerned look.

"Marky. . ." she murmured seductively, crawling across the bed to him.

"Baby, you need to get to sleep."

"So do you." Maureen gently pulled Mark down onto his back and kissed him. Mark pulled away. After seeing Roger back at the loft, he really wasn't in the mood.

"Not now, Maureen."

Maureen was taken aback by this. Mark never turned her down. Only when he was engrossed in his film making, and even then she could usually persuade him otherwise.

"Fine," she replied coldly, hiccuping loudly, thus setting off a new set of giggles. She crawled under the covers, the pyjamas falling off the bed, forgotten. "Lay down with me?"

Mark sighed and smiled. "Sure." He lay down under the blankets next to Maureen.

Maureen shut her eyes and rested her head on Mark's chest as he rubbed her cold arms. "You should have worn something warmer."

"Mmhmm," she giggled. 

"Sorry Roger's back."

"Tha's 'k."

Mark couldn't tell if her words were slurred or she was falling asleep. Maybe both. He tried to warm her up for a little while longer until he heard Benny's voice drop off and his door slam shut. He sat up carefully, so as not to wake the now sleeping Maureen, and quietly left the room. Roger was still playing his guitar, but now on one of the stools next to the island. He looked up when he heard the floor creak.

Mark silently walked into the kitchen and reached into the fridge for a bottle of beer. If he couldn't get drunk the Life, the least he could do is get drunk here.

"Hey," Roger said, still looking down at the strings.

Mark brushed past him and picked up the camera he had left on the coffee table earlier. He had gotten some really great footage of Maureen in the park. He wanted to make a video for her for their one year anniversary. She'd like that.

"Mark?"

Mark continued to ignore the annoying voice that now sounded closer. He concentrated on the small viewfinder on the camera. Maureen. Maureen walking on the ledge of the fountain.

Mark noticed Roger was standing right beside him, looking down at him. Mark looked up. 

__

'Wow, he's tall.' Wait.

Mark stood up and was now face to face with Roger. They were both practically the same height. 6'2. They always had been.

"What?" Mark asked sharply.

"I didn't do it."

"Right." Mark grabbed his camera, and quickly began walking back to his room. Roger followed him and grabbed his arm.

"Why don't you believe me?"

"Maureen wouldn't just –make something like that up. She's not like that." He shook Roger's grip off and looked at Roger. He walked over to the kitchen and sat down at the island. He wanted to hear this excuse.

Roger stared at him. "Well, go on," Mark instigated.

"Quiet down, April's in the other room."

"Nothing stops you when _I'm_ in the other room."

"Mark, stop it. I didn't even _do_ anyth—"

"Right, yeah, and there was no heroine on the floor after you left." Mark snapped. He usually had a lot of patience with Roger, but now it was wearing thin.

Roger looked shocked. He shrugged. "Sorry, Mark. I'm sorry."

"Okay."

"I am."

"You said you were going to stop."

"I know."

"You lied."

"Yeah. . ."

"Like last time you said you were going to quit."

"Sorry—"

"No you're not! If you were sorry you wouldn't start again!" Mark jumped off the stool and walked over to the door.

"It's not easy, Mar—"

"Fine. You know what? Fine! I don't care what the hell you do!" Mark yelled. He slipped on his shoes quickly and left the loft.

Fuck. Roger put his shoes and followed Mark out of the loft.

"What? What do you want me to do, Mark?" Roger yelled, coming down the stairs after Mark.

"I want you to leave me alone," he answered simply.

"I didn't do it. I swear."

Mark turned around in front of the door that led outside. "I can't believe you about the drugs – how can I believe you about that?"

"I would never – you're my friend, I wouldn't. I don't even like Maureen. Remember, I think she's a bitch?"

Mark studied Roger for a long moment then let go of the door handle he was tightly gripping. He walked past Roger, playfully punching him in the arm as he made his way back up the stairs.

"So we're okay?" 

"I guess." Mark didn't want to stay mad at Roger. He wasn't sure if he believed him about what he did or didn't do to Maureen, and he sure didn't believe that he was going to try to stop with drugs. He just figured life would be easier if they were all friends again. He hated confrontation.


	7. Chapter 7

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Chapter 7

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A/N: Thanks again for the reviews! I hope you are all enjoying this story. I might not get to update too much this week 'cause I've got exams. (Ew.) Wish me luck on them and I hope you like the chapter!

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----------------

When Mark and Roger got back up to the loft, they sat and talked in the living room for a long time. Eventually, Collins came back. He asked if the two were okay, and they were, so he quickly went to bed since he had classes the next day. 

They continued their conversation. Roger told Mark about April's constant crying and confessed that he was really worried about her. He asked Mark if he knew anything, but he didn't. Mark told Roger all about Maureen's mysterious disappearances and her strange behaviour at the Life and asked if Roger knew anything about it. Roger said no, but it was probably because she was a bitch. He quickly apologized when Mark gave him a 'Look'. They had gone to bed soon after, but Mark couldn't get to sleep. He lay awake thinking about everything, his and Maureen's relationship, his and Roger's, April's crying, how Collins' new boyfriend was perfect for him, how stupid Benny is when he's drunk. He eventually fell into a disturbed slumber, but woke very soon after. 

He got up and went into the open loft very early in the morning. He decided to start working on the video he was going to make for Maureen. Then he watched some television on the old black and white TV. Then he reheated some pizza from last week and ate it for breakfast at the island. He was alone in the loft for several hours before Benny came in, covering his eyes with the palms of his hands.

"I'm never drinking again," he stated, sitting down at the end of the island, dropping his head into his folded arms.

Mark laughed and poured him a cup of coffee. "That's what you said last time you got drunk."

Benny took the coffee mug and drank from it, then sighed. "I'm late for work."

"Yeah you are."

"I'm very hungover."

Mark laughed again. "Yeah, you are."

Maureen came out of her bedroom, wide awake and dressed, clutching a bottle of Tylenol. 

"Morning!" she greeted brightly.

"Shh, Maureen. Don't yell." Benny pleaded with her. 

"Um, sorry," she replied, pouring herself a cup of coffee. The group had got a lot of use out of Benny's new coffee maker and now was wondering how they got along with out it.

Maureen sat down next to Mark, who put his arm around her waist. "Happy birthday."

She smiled. "Thank you, Pookie." She popped the top off the Tylenol bottle and took out two, giving them to Benny. He was presently face down on the island, his arms trying to shut out any light that might infiltrate. 

"ThankyouMaureenhappybirthday." His reply was muffled, but his arm flopped out and he took the drugs then popped them in his mouth.

Maureen laughed at this. "Thanks, Benny." She patted his head with one hand and rubbed Mark's back with the other. Mark picked up the bottle and examined it.

"I always wondered why you never had bad hangovers. . ." Mark rested his chin on her shoulder.

She laughed. "Coffee and two extra-strength Tylenols. Don't knock it 'til you try it."

"So my little birthday girl, what do you want to do today?" he asked, kissing her neck.

"I dunno. Just hang out, I guess."

Mark took her hand and stood up. "Or. . . come on, let's go for a walk."

Maureen jumped off her stool and the two put on their coats and shoes and left the loft, leaving a very hungover and very late Benny in the kitchen.

Mark led Maureen down the stairs and they stepped out onto the cold street. 

"Where to?" Maureen asked, swinging her hand, which was holding Mark's, back and forth.

"The park?" he suggested.

"Yeah." 

Mark and Maureen walked to the park quickly. They didn't say much as they walked, but it was a very comfortable silence. 

When they reached the park, they roamed through it slowly, hands linked together. She loved going to the park. Her father always used to take her to the park near their house when she a kid, but after he left her mother, she wasn't allowed to go. Her mom wouldn't take her since she was usually drunk, partying, or both, and she wasn't allowed to go alone because they lived in a kind of rough neighbourhood. When she had told Mark this, he took her to the park as often as she wanted.

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you. . ." Mark sang. Maureen laughed and buried her head in his shoulder.

"Shh!"

"Don't you like my singing?" Mark pretended to pout, something he had learned from Maureen.

"No," she joked. She pulled Mark over to the swing set and plopped down on one of the swings. The park was empty since it was a very cold January day, so they were alone for the most part. 

"Push me?"

He sighed loudly and laughed. "Are you sure you're 22 and not seven?"

She turned around and stuck out her tongue at him, and he started to push her. She pumped her legs to go higher, when suddenly Mark pulled the swing back so it stopped and sat on the swing next to Maureen.

"Why'd you stop?"

He turned the swings to they were facing each other and he moved close to Maureen's. "I have something for you."

"You didn't need to get me anything, Pookie." She smiled and kissed him on the nose.

Mark reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. "Sorry it's not wrapped."

Her eyes lit up. 

"Is it a pony?" she asked, smiling. 

"How'd you guess?" Mark frowned, furrowing his eyebrows. 

Maureen took the box from Mark and opened it up. Inside was a gold heart-shaped locket. 

"I figured you could put that picture of your dad in it. I could get it shrunk or whatever so it would fit."

Maureen tore her eyes away from the necklace and stared at Mark, who was waiting for a reaction. God, he hoped she liked it. 

She grinned and snaked her arms around his neck. 

"Thank you Mark!"

He laughed and stood up. He wrapped his arms around her waist twirled her around.

"So you like it?"

"Yeah I do!" She put the box in her coat pocket for fear of losing the locket in the snow. "Thank you, Pookie. . .I love it." Maureen leaned in and kissed Mark. She rested her forehead against his. "I love you." 

Mark mentally froze. She had never said that without him saying it first. This was good. All thoughts of Maureen's strange behaviour lately had vanished and he smiled.

"I love you, too." He hugged her tightly, then he picked her up and ran away from the swings, dropping her in a big snow bank. 

"Hey!" she squealed. She tried to grab for his leg, but he ran away, laughing like an evil mastermind before she could. She sat up, making a snowball between her hands and threw it at him. She was surprised it hit him, he was pretty far away by now. She struggled to stand up and ran after him, screaming at the top of her lungs.

She came up behind him and tackled him to the ground, laughing. "Hi."

"Hi." He turned to face her and rubbed his hands on her red cheeks. "You look cold. Want to go back home?"

Maureen shook her head and moved closer to Mark. 

"Not yet," she whispered into his mouth. She took of his glasses and kissed him.

-----------------

It was several hours later when Mark and Maureen reached their building, both shivering from sitting in the snow all afternoon. On their way home, they had stopped at a convenience store and bought some hot chocolate, marshmallows, and icing sugar. Maureen had asked Mark if they could have hot chocolate and French toast for supper, and since it was her birthday he wasn't allowed to say no (a rule that Maureen had made up earlier that morning).

When they reached the top floor, they heard loud sobbing and screaming coming from inside. The door opened to reveal April doubled over at Roger's bedroom door, banging on it and screaming at him to let her in.

Maureen looked at Mark who was wide-eyed and had no idea what to do. Maureen quickly took off her wet coat and tossed it onto the couch, hurrying to April who was hysterical.

"April, what happened?" she asked, crouching down next to smaller blonde girl. She continued to bang on the door and yell Roger's name, begging him to let her in.

Maureen grabbed April's flailing hands to get her attention. "Sweetie, calm down."

April stopped yelling and crumbled against Maureen, sobbing. Maureen put an arm around April and asked again.

"What happened?"

April took shaky breaths and wiped away the tears rolling down her cheeks. 

"I told him."

Maureen looked back at Mark, who had taken off his shoes and coat and was standing awkwardly beside the couch, still holding the plastic bag.

"And?" Maureen prodded.

"Well, I—I told him and he freaked out and started yelling at me and then he said he was sorry and it wasn't my fault. . .but then he kept yelling anyways and he locked himself in his room," she replied between sobs and sniffles.

Maureen was silent and listened for sounds from the room next door. She heard the quiet strumming of his guitar coming from inside. At least he hadn't tried to crawl out the window or anything.

"Look, just, ah, relax, okay? Can you do that? He'll be fine, probably just overreacting."

April buried her face in her hands and brought her knees up to her chest.

"I'm so scared."

Maureen didn't know what to say to that, so she just helped April stand up and sat her on the couch. She went over to Mark who was now standing in the kitchen, his arms crossed across his chest and a cross between confusion and fear on his face.

"Sorry."

"What's going on?" he asked.

"I'll tell you later. Wanna try and get Roger to come out of his room?" She bit her lip and leaned against him.

"Yeah, sure." He put a reassuring hand on her back at walked over to Roger's door while Maureen went to try and comfort April.

He knocked on the door lightly. "Rog?" He heard him sniff and put something on the ground.

"Rog, it's me. Can I come in?" He tried again.

He waited a minute, then he heard the door unlock.

Mark quietly motioned for April to come to the door and slowly opened it for her. She poked her head inside.

Curled up on the bed, Roger was crying. April slid into his room and sat on the edge of the bed, putting her hand on his knee. He didn't shy away, so she curled up next to him and wiped the tears off of his face as she cried, too. Mark shut the door and the two of them were left alone.

"I'm sorry," April whispered.

Roger sniffed back tears. "It's not your fault. It's not." He paused. "God, I don't cry."

April laughed a bit at this. "I made you cry."

"Yeah. But you made me feel so much better when you came in here."

"Then why did you lock me out?"

He put an arm around her shoulder, pulling her in closer to him. He tried to stop the new tears that were prickling at the back of his eyes from sliding down his cheeks. "I don't know. Because I'm a jerk. I was just. . .I can't believe it and I don't want to have to deal with it."

"Oh." She looked down and gently tugged on his shirt. "It's unfair."

"Yeah it is." 

"I'm so scared, Roger. This is horrible."

There was a comfortable silence where April rested her head against Roger's chest and Roger wound his fingers tightly into April's medium length hair. 

"Sorry." 

"Me too. So you don't hate me?"

"No. Of course not. How could I hate you?" Roger pinched April's cheeks. She said she hated it, but he knew she loved it. She kissed him on the cheek.

"So we can do this?"

"Definitely." He put on a smile for her and hugged her tighter, pulling the blanket at the foot of his bed over the both of them. He was scared as hell.


	8. Chapter 8

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Chapter 8

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A/N: I got this up very fast to tide you over until I can update again! So enjoy and wish me luck on exams! ::cries:: 

Also, a gold star goes to anyone who can guess what line in this chapter I shamelessly stole from _Friends_!

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April rubbed her eyes and pushed the covers off of her, even though it was quite cold in the loft. She turned to Roger, who's back was facing her. He always moved around when he slept. It wasn't an unusual occurrence for April to be woken up in the middle of the night from Roger kicking her in his sleep. There were nights when she got so fed up that she would take her pillow and all the blankets and sleep on her couch. Roger refused to believe he moved around so much in bed, though. He said April talked in her sleep, but she knew it wasn't true.

April sat up and sighed loudly. Roger wouldn't wake up. He always slept late. If he couldn't sleep until his own time, it would take you that long to wake him up. April stared over his shoulder at his face. She didn't understand how a man as kind and sweet as Roger could be so troubled. When he was around his band mates and his friends at gigs, he could be a real jackass, but when it was just him and her, he treated her like a princess.

April leaned over Roger's shoulder and kissed him on the cheek before pulling the blankets over him even more. She stepped out of the bed and looked over her shoulder to see Roger still sleeping in the fetal position. She slid out the door and made her way into the kitchen. She poured herself a glass of water and turned around to see Mark sitting on the couch, staring at the camera he held in his hands.

"Oh my God!" she exclaimed, a little too loudly.

Mark looked up from his camera. "You okay there?"

"Yes, I just didn't see you there. . ." She sat down at the island facing Mark.

Mark grunted quietly and returned his attention to the camera.

April placed her still full glass of water behind her on the island and examined her fingernails. 

"What are you doing up so early?" she asked.

"Uh, I haven't been sleeping well lately." Mark didn't even tear his attention away from the viewfinder.

"Oh, me neither." She stood up hastily and slowly walked over to the couch. She sat down next to Mark on the edge of the cushion.

"What are you doing?"

"Just watching some footage. I'm gonna make a video for Maureen for our anniversary."

"That's cute. How long have you been together?" April's disinterest was clearly evident as her gaze shifted over to the small screen.

"A year coming up." The scene changed to Maureen climbing a tree in the park in the summer, yelling at Mark to 'get his pale Jew ass up that tree with her,' and Mark laughing from behind the camera.

April gave a small smile and continued trying to make conversation. "That's a long time."

"She makes it fun, I guess." Mark laughed a bit as the scene changed again to Maureen dropping her ice cream cone on the pavement and complaining about how the universe has it in for her.

There was a long, awkward silence where the two watched Mark's footage.

"Maureen told me," Mark finally spoke up.

"Oh." She looked down.

"Sorry. How's he taking it?"

"It's not your fault," she shrugged. "He's okay, now. Scared, I guess, but so am I. Can't blame him." April pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged them, resting her chin on her knees,

"Yeah." Mark never had any particular affinity for April. When they had first met, he liked her. He thought she was really nice, and was just what Roger needed to calm him down some. Instead, he screwed her up, too.

There was another long silence. April's eyes began to tear up and she desperately tried to sniff back her tears. She didn't want to cry in front of Mark. Mark heard her, but didn't look up.

"I'm scared," April quietly said, eyes locked on the camera.

Mark looked over at her and grimaced slightly. He didn't realize he'd have to comfort her, too.

"I know."

"No, you don't. We're gonna die, me and Roger. We're gonna get sick and die, Mark." April's tears started to flow freely.

Mark reluctantly put an arm around April's shoulders. He hated when girls cried around him. it made him feel so weird.

April pulled away quickly and wiped away her tears. "Sorry. I'm probably just depressing you or something."

"No, it's okay." Mark's eyes drifted back to his camera. God, he felt awkward. "You hungry? We still have some stuff left for French toast if you want. . ."

"No thanks. I'm not in the mood for eating, I guess."

"Oh, God, sorry. I didn't even think—"

"No-no-no, it's okay. It's all right." There was another long pause where the two watched Maureen dance around the loft on camera.

"What would you do if you were me?" April looked over to Mark and bit her lip. Mark was silent for a moment, then, his attention still on the camera, replied,

"I guess I'd get clean. Stop it with the drugs. Then I'd just. . .try and live as long as I could, I guess." Mark turned of his camera and set it on the coffee table. He stood up and wandered into the kitchen.

April considered Mark's reply and looked up at him. "What do you mean? You would go into rehab?"

"Uh, yeah," he replied casually, pulling the ingredients out of the fridge.

"Even though you'd have to leave everything behind for a really long time?"

"Sure. I mean, eventually you'll get back and be able to enjoy everything even more and stuff."

Mark was being helpful and he didn't even know it.

"So you'd leave Maureen and Roger and your family and everybody behind for like, half a year?"

"Mmhmm." Mark wasn't even listening anymore. Not that he wasn't interested. He was just hungry.

"Then you'd come back and just go back to life as usual?" 

"Yep." 

April was silent for a long time, staring off into space. She quickly gathered her bearings and stood up.

"I'm gonna go back to bed." She crept into Roger's bedroom and shut the door behind her.

"G'night."

"Gooooooood morning!" Collins entered the kitchen, dressed in black pants and a maroon sweater.

"Hey. What's up?" Mark asked, plopping his French toast down on the plate he had set out for himself. He moved his pan onto a cold burner.

"Not a whole lot." Collins snuck a bite of Mark's breakfast. "Went out with Noah again last night."

Mark turned around and picked up his toast, noticing there was a large bite out of one of the corners. "Thanks, man. He seems pretty cool."

"He is. He was telling about how interested he was in your filming. Said it sounded really interesting."

"Yeah. What are the odds, eh?" Mark sat down at one of the stools and slowly ate his toast.

"I know. I didn't even know that about him." Collins laughed, grabbing the bowl of Captain Crunch he had just poured for himself and sitting next to Mark.

"Why you up so early?" he asked.

"Couldn't sleep. Stuff's just freaking me out." 

"I've been so out of the loop lately. I've been at work for so long, I've got a lot of classes this term. It's pretty brutal." He shook his head.

"Yeah. When does the school year end?" Mark asked.

"April." Collins rolled his eyes. "What stuff's freaking you out?"

Mark wrinkled his nose. He wasn't sure if he should tell Collins everything just yet. He'd wait for Roger to tell him on his own.

"Well, just. . .stuff. Maureen's been acting weird lately."

"Lately?" Collins laughed, throwing a piece of cereal into the air and trying to catch it in his mouth.

"Even more so, then. I dunno. She just disappears and then comes back like nothing's wrong. She doesn't even tell me when she leaves."

"It's Mo. She's crazy. Probably out planning protests or auditioning for shows or throwing pennies into fountains." Collins shrugged and placed his now empty bowl in the sink.

"Yeah, I guess." Collins was right. 

__

'Maureen's a free spirit. Probably doesn't even realize she doesn't tell me where she's going. She means well.'

They continued to talk for about ten minutes, when Benny came strolling into the kitchen.

"Hello, hello, hello," he greeted.

"Hey." Collins stood up and patted Benny on the back, going to sit on the couch. He picked up his nearby bag and pulled out a folder, flipping through it as they talked.

"How're you?" Mark asked.

"Awesome. Saw Mimi again last night."

"Your latest plaything?" Collins asked from the couch.

"Yeah. I want you guys to meet her. I should bring her over sometime when she has the night off."

"What does she do?"

"She's a stripper!" Mark blurted out, laughing. Collins looked up, shocked and wide-eyed at Benny, then immediately burst out laughing, too.

"Guys, she is not! She's a dancer! There's a difference!" Benny tried to defend himself.

"Oh-oh-oh! How about this! She's like, fifteen, too!" Mark continued, and he and Collins, now sitting beside each other on the couch, started to laugh even harder.

"She is not! She's eighteen, and there's a difference! There's a difference!" Even Benny was starting to laugh a bit. He quickly caught himself and smacked the two in their shoulders. "Fuckheads."

Collins stopped laughing with much trouble. 

"Sorry," he said trying to catch his breath. Mark was still laughing on his side of the couch. 

"I'm sure she's a very nice girl. A very nice girl who takes her clothes off for a living." Collins started to laugh again.

"She doesn't! She dances! She _dances_!" 

Benny threw his arms up in the air and gave up, flopping on the chair.

"Guys, I'm dating a stripper." He started to laugh as he said this. "What the hell am I supposed to tell my parents?!"

"Mom, Dad, I'm dating a stripper."

Benny looked over at Mark and gave him a 'God, you're stupid' look. "Thanks for that. Really."

Collins looked down at his watch and sighed, sniffing back tears from his laughter. "I should go. Gotta finish marking stuff I left in my office. Stripper. . ." he laughed to himself, standing up from the couch.

"Dancer!" Benny and Mark said at the same time. Benny was trying to defend himself again, but Mark was mocking him. Benny responded by throwing the phone that was on the coffee table at him, hitting Mark in the stomach. Mark flopped back onto the couch, playing dead and Benny doubled over laughing.

Collins stood at the door with his backpack over one shoulder and had his hands in his coat pockets, staring at the other two.

"You are both so weird." He shook his head and left the loft, leaving a tearful Mark and Benny behind him.

Benny leaned back and sighed, trying to stop laughing. "So, anyway, what are you up to today?"

Mark sat back up and continued laughing quietly. "I dunno. I should probably get out filming some more."

Mark and Benny continued to talk about nothing in particular when the phone rang. Neither of them wanted to answer it, so they let the machine pick it up.

__

"You know what to do."

"Hey, uh, Maureen? It's John. From the other night. I just thought I'd call you. . .see how you were doing. . . Uh, anyway, call me."

Mark froze. John? Who the hell was John?

Benny looked over to Mark, a look of shock on his face. 

"Who's John?"

"I, uh, don't know," Mark replied. He felt like he was just run over by a bus, and the bus backed up just for fun. "I don't know."

Benny cleared his throat and stood up slowly. 

"I should go. . ." He made his way over to the closet, quickly put on his coat and his shoes and picked up his bag from the floor. He took one last look at Mark, who was slumped over on the couch, staring at the wall in front of him. He wasn't even blinking.

"See you later, man." Benny shut the door behind him and Mark was left alone in the living room.

Mark sat on the couch for a long time, thinking. Who was John? Why was he with Maureen the other night? Why did he want to see how she was doing?

Soon, Mark stood up and walked into the kitchen. He took the milk out of the fridge and put it on the counter. He looked at it, then put it back in the fridge. He didn't know what he was doing or why he was doing it, he just needed something to get his mind of whoever the hell John was. He noticed the small '1' blinking on the answering machine and debated deleting it, but decided against it. He wanted to ask Maureen about this, and unless the message was still there, he'd look crazy for bringing it up. Mark wandered around the loft, eyes still wide with confusion, and a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach. He wasn't sure how he felt. He wasn't mad or hurt. He wasn't sure what he was.

He wandered back to the couch and flopped down on it. What would he do now? He wanted to ask Maureen about it, but didn't know how.

Almost as if on cue, Maureen shuffled into the living room, covering her mouth as she yawned. She saw Mark and smiled.

"Hey you."

"Hi." Mark continued looking straight ahead.

She plopped herself down on the couch next to Mark and took his hand. 

"You okay?"

Mark didn't answer.

"Pookie?" Maureen tried to turn Mark's face to hers, but he wouldn't let her. "Mark, what is it?"

Mark stole a sideways glance at Maureen and frowned.

"Who's John?"

"What?" Maureen replied slowly.

"There's a message for you from John. Said he wanted to know how you were." Mark finally tore his attention away from the ground and looked up and Maureen, who's eyebrows were raised.

"He's the director. For that play I told you about, remember?" she said quickly.

"No." Right. Like Mark was going to believe that.

"Yeah you do. _The Importance of Being Earnest_, remember? I told you the day before auditions! My audition was the other day."

Mark faintly remembered something about her talking about trying out for a show, but he couldn't remember if that's what it was. It must have been. Mark studied Maureen's face as she flashed him a small smile. She had to be telling the truth. There was no other explanation. One look into her deep brown eyes and he forgot everything else.

"Remember now?"

"Yeah, I guess. . .Yeah, I do," he nodded. "You should call him back. Maybe you got the part." He smiled at his girlfriend and ran his fingers through her long, dark hair. She jumped up and walked to the kitchen, and pulled open the fridge.

"God, I am SO HUNGRY!" she sighed and laughed. Mark joined her and sat on the island.

"Me, too."

Maureen went on to fix herself a bowl of cereal and a glass of milk, and sat down at the island across from Mark. They continued talking about nothing in particular and made plans for their day.

An alarm went off inside Maureen. Yes, she had auditioned for _The Importance of Being Earnest_, but John wasn't the director. She didn't even know _what_ John did for a living. Her cover was almost blown. She had to be more careful next time.


	9. Chapter 9

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Chapter 9

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A/N: Alrighty, I've officially decided that this is mainly going to be a Mark/Maureen/Roger/April story, partly due to my Mark/Mo whoreness and partly because I like it like that. There'll still be stuff about everybody else, too, though, but slightly less in depth. 

That's it! Enjoy and review, please!

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ONE WEEK LATER

A week later, Collins was running around the loft setting the food that Benny had bought out on the coffee table. He was due home with Mimi soon so she could meet the others. Mark and Maureen were hanging out on the couch, and Roger and April were still in Roger's bedroom where they had been for the last week.

"Why did he buy so much food?" Collins asked Mark and Maureen as he tried to squeeze what was the fourth tray of food on the coffee table.

"I don't know, but that means all the more food for us next week," Mark laughed from the couch, where he was rubbing Maureen's feet. She had somehow convinced him to give her a foot massage, claiming that it would be fun.

"When's he coming back with her?" Maureen asked.

"He said he'd go pick her up after work and they'd come here." Collins started to laugh as he said this. 

"She's a stripper!" he repeated as if nobody had heard this before. Mark and Maureen rolled their eyes. After hearing that about 700 times, it was surprisingly less funny.

Collins waited for a response and when he received none, walked over to Roger's room and knocked on the door quietly. April appeared quickly and told Collins that she and Roger weren't up to meeting Mimi, and that they just wanted to hang out in his room for the night. Collins offered them food, and they accepted it, shutting themselves up in Roger's room again.

"Are Roger and April gonna meet her, too?" Maureen asked.

"Nope," Collins shrugged, trying to fit yet another tray of food on the coffee table.

"Are they ever gonna leave the loft again? They've been in here for like, a week!" she said, pulling her feet away from Mark and moving closer to him on the couch.

"Give them time, Mo," Collins chided her, sitting down on the chair.

Maureen stuck her tongue out at him and yawned. 

"Hurry the hell up, Benny," she whined.

"Don't worry, he'll be here soon," Mark wrapped his arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. Everything had been going a lot better between he and Maureen in the last week. They spent every day together, and she didn't have any more mysterious disappearances. And as it turned out, she got the role she auditioned for – Cecily in _The Importance of Being Earnest_. Everything was working out for their relationship, and Mark never felt better about it.

Mark snapped back to reality when he heard Maureen's shrill voice arguing Collins about something. He smiled. He found it so cute when Maureen got so worked up over something that her voice would reach about four notches higher than her voice normally was. Mark decided that whatever the two were fighting about, Collins was probably right. He always was.

The three continued to banter among themselves and occasionally steal food off of the trays and rearranging it so it looked like nothing was missing so Benny wouldn't kill them. He could be really anal about that kind of thing, and they often teased him about it.

Soon after, the door opened and Benny entered holding a young-looking girl's hand, who Mark recognized and Mimi. Her curly hair was pulled back into a ponytail and she looked pretty nervous.

"Hey, guys," Benny greeted, as he took Mimi's long coat and hung it up in the closet with his. "This is Mimi!"

Everybody smiled and greeted her, and Collins stood up, giving her his seat. He grabbed a stool from the island and sat on that instead.

Benny introduced everybody, leading Mimi to the chair. "That's Collins, Maureen, and Mark, and April and Roger are. . .not here."

Mimi smiled and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. 

"Can I get you something to drink?" Collins asked, trying to break the ice.

Mimi looked up at him like he just asked her to have his babies and laughed a bit. 

"Yeah, please." She stood up and followed him to the fridge, and Benny sat on the arm of Mimi's chair.

"What do you guys think?"

"She's so cute!" Maureen exclaimed. This, of course, caused Collins and Mimi to look over at her and laugh.

"Nice going, Mo."

"Sorry," she giggled, burying her face into Mark's shoulder.

Mimi and Collins returned, armed with five beers. Collins passed them around and Mimi took her seat once again.

Several hours later, it was now into the wee hours of the morning and the group had continued getting acquainted, talking, and laughing. Mimi was immediately accepted into the group with no hostility and everybody really liked her.

Suddenly, she jumped up out of her seat.

"I gotta go!" She hurried over to the door and slipped on her shoes. Benny stood up and followed her to the door, and Collins handed her her coat.

"So soon?" Benny asked.

"Yeah, sorry baby. I'll call you, okay?" she replied, hurrying down the hall and down the stairs. 

Benny stood at the open door with an eyebrow raised and shook his head, laughing. He walked back into the loft, letting the door swing shut behind him.

-----------------

Roger took another bite of his sandwich and looked over to April, who was sitting on the other end of the bed eating hers. This was one of the first things they had eaten in the week that they had been shut up in the loft. They hadn't had much of an appetite until now, and they weren't up to getting out and about just yet. They were still learning to live with 'it', as they so carefully referred to it. They were scared and often fell asleep clinging onto each other for dear life. Then they'd wake up, and Roger would hold April as she cried into his chest, and he'd pretend he wasn't crying, too. They hadn't said very much to each other, they didn't need to. They just needed to be together.

Roger popped the last bit of his sandwich into his mouth and brushed the crumbs off of his lap. He put the plate on the floor next to his bed and lay down with his hands behind his head. April did the same and laid down next to Roger. They stayed still, listening to the muffled voices from the other room for several minutes. They had learned to hear through was quite well over the past couple days. Roger didn't know what else to do. He wanted to talk to April, but he didn't want to make her feel worse than she already did. She was convinced that this whole ordeal was her fault. It wasn't, and he knew it. If it wasn't for him, she would be fine right now. She would never have been involved in drugs and she would probably be a lot better off than she was now.

__

'Roger, you're such a fuck up. Not only do you screw up your own_ life, but you screw up April's, too.'_

Roger was fed up with himself. He turned onto his side to face April.

"Babe?"

"Mmm?" April responded, not moving.

He ran his hand up and down her side. "What are we gonna do?"

"Go to sleep," her eyes fluttered shut and she moved closer to Roger.

"No, I mean. . .about everything. We can't stay in here forever." He wrapped an arm around her waist and breathed in the scent of her hair.

"I don't know. I don't want to think about it right now," she shook her head, nuzzling in closer to Roger.

Roger sighed. That was probably the only answer he'd get. He didn't want to push her, but he wanted to know what was going to happen. 

April looked up at him and forced a smile.

"You're sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I mean, I will be. Yeah."

April kissed him and wrapped her arms around him tightly. 

Roger was itching to reach for the plastic bag of white powder he had hidden in the pocket of his blue jeans, but couldn't get out of April's tight grasp. He knew she wanted it, too. He shut his eyes tightly and tried to think about anything besides the craving.

-----------------

The next night, everybody was sound asleep in bed except for Mark. He had been sitting on the couch fiddling with his camera for uncountable hours now. He was sitting on the couch when the loft was empty, except for Roger and April in the other room. He was sitting on the couch when Collins came home from work. He was sitting on the couch when Benny came in from his date with Mimi. He was sitting on the couch when Collins got up for a midnight snack. He was sitting on the couch, waiting for Maureen. 

Mark wanted to kick himself for jinxing his and Maureen's relationship. He was convinced everything was going to work out famously because of the last week they had spent together. They were as close as they ever had been, and Mark, even though he didn't think it was possible, was loving Maureen more than he had before.

His eyes felt heavy and started drooping. No, no, he had to stay awake. Maureen would be home any minute and she would have a reason why she was home so late. The subway broke down. Rehearsals ran late. There had to be a good reason, right? Of course. This was Maureen. She would never do anything to hurt Mark.

Mark sighed and rubbed his eyes. He couldn't go to sleep yet. Not yet. If he went to sleep, he wouldn't be able to help Maureen if she was hurt or kiss her goodnight. . .

Mark's head snapped up. _'Stay awake!' _he scolded himself. He stood up and walked into the kitchen slowly, yawning.

"When a problem comes along, you must whip it," Mark sang quietly to himself, trying to stay awake.

  


"Uh. . .mmmm, you must whip it," he hummed. He didn't know all the words. He emptied the coffee pot into a nearby mug.

  
"When something's going wrong, you must whip it. . ." He slid the mug into the microwave and put it in for a minute.  


  
"Now whip it, into shape, shape it up, it's not too late. . ." He swayed back and forth waiting for the microwave to stop and beep.

  
"Go forward. . .mov'head. . .whip it, whip it goooood. . ." 

Mark gave up and wandered into his bedroom, flopping onto the bed. He shut his eyes and quickly drifted into unconsciousness.

-----------------

Maureen quietly, but quickly walked down Avenue B to the loft. What time was it? Fuck. Her watch. Where was her watch? She ran her hands up and down her arms searching for it. She could call Joanne tomorrow and see if she left it there that night.

Joanne. Joanne. What would Mark say if he found out? Hey, Maureen, where were you last night? Oh, you know, fucking a girl. Mark would keel over and die.

Joanne. Maureen liked Joanne. She was the complete opposite of her. She was a lawyer. She was nice. She was brilliant. She was beautiful. She was everything Maureen wanted to be. She was perfect. 

__

'God, just stop it. You're so stupid. How could you let this happen? You're not just hurting Mark. You're hurting everybody else. Mark, Joanne. . .the countless people you've been doing on the side.'

She carefully thought everything through. She loved Mark, didn't she? She didn't love all those other people. She just liked them. She liked them just fine. But she loved Joanne. 

What?

Mark, she loved Mark. She didn't love Joanne, she loved Mark. If she loved Joanne, that would make her a lesbian. She wasn't gay, just curious. Mark. Everything was Mark. She was in love with Mark.

But what if she didn't love Mark? What if she loved Joanne? She had seen Joanne several times, and spent numerous nights with her. She really liked her. But she can't be in love with Joanne if she's in love with Mark. Because she loved Mark.

Her thoughts continued to plague her until she reached the door of her building. She wanted to cry, but she couldn't. She had taught herself not to back when she was very young, about eight. After her parents divorced when she was five, things started going downhill from there. She figured if she didn't cry, things were never as bad as they seemed.

She slowly wandered up the stairs, gripping onto the railing tightly. She savoured the sound of her heels clicking on the cold cement stairs and when she reached the top of the first flight, stomped on the landing for a good minute to vent her frustrations. She took two stairs at a time from that point on until she finally reached the top floor. She pushed open the door quietly and peered in. 

Empty. Perfect.

Maureen slid into the loft and quietly removed her shoes and her coat, not bothering to hang it up in the closet. It would have made too much noise. 

Halfway to her and Mark's room, she heard the bedroom door behind her creak open.

"Where were you?"

Roger. Oh my God.

Maureen spun around. "Out." She continued walking to her bedroom.

"Out where?" Roger asked quickly.

Maureen stopped and sighed.

"Out _out_. Now leave me alone."

Roger stifled a laugh and walked over to the fridge.

"Shouldn't you have been home like, hours ago?" He pulled out a bottle of beer and leaned against the counter.

"Shouldn't you quit being a hermit and get a life?" she shot back, still poised near the door.

Roger took a big gulp of his beer and raised an eyebrow. He was rubbing his free hand along the side on his jeans and sniffing. Withdrawal. 

"The Drama Queen gets cranky."

"Shut up, Roger." Maureen walked into the kitchen and swung the refrigerator door open, taking out a beer as well.

"All I'm saying is, Mark might not suspect anything, but I do."

She looked over at him and grimaced, sitting on the stool farthest away from Roger.

"And what do you suspect, Little Miss Well Hungarian?"

"Well let's see. You disappear randomly then waltz in at three in the morning acting like nothing's wrong. Seems kind of strange to me."

"Yeah, well you seem kinda strange to me. Constantly getting high, fucking up your girlfriend's life, locking yourself up in your bedroom, which, by the way, doesn't make for a pleasing smell."

"Shut up," Roger retorted. Maureen smiled smugly and continued.

"And I guess it doesn't make it any better that your best friend can't trust you, ever since you tried to do his girlfriend." She rested her chin in her hand and smiled innocently at Roger who looked down and sniffed. 

__

'And Roger is usually so good with words.'

"So, really, which is stranger?" she asked, feigning deep interest.

Roger finished off his beer and placed the empty bottle on the counter behind him. He turned and walked back to his bedroom door.

"Don't I get an answer?" Maureen pouted. Roger turned around. His usually vibrant green eyes were hollow and empty.

"Just shut up, Maureen. I can't take you."

With that, Roger was back in his room and the door was once again shut. Maureen let out a small laugh and stood up. She shook her head and walked back to her bedroom, hoping she wouldn't wake Mark.

-----------------

Roger crept into his bedroom and noticed April was sitting up in the dark.

"You're awake."

"I don't think I was ever asleep. Why'd you get up?" She moved over and Roger sat next to her.

"I was thirsty." He draped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to him. She wriggled out of his grasp and stretched before settling against him again. There was a long moment of silence, then Roger spoke up.

"Do you love me?"

"Of course I do." She looked up at him and pretended to grimace, trying to hide a smile. "Duh," she laughed.

"Good. Because I love you too."

"Well, good. I'm glad." She shut her eyes and grabbed on to the back of Roger's shirt, writhing it. Roger listened to April's shallow and shaky breathing.

"April?"

"Yeah?"

"Marry me."

April lay still for a minute. 

__

'Good going, Roger.'

She looked up at Roger and examined his face.

"What?" she asked slowly.

"Nothing, never mind," Roger replied quickly. Way to fuck up every relationship you have, Davis.

"No, what did you ask me?" A smile crept over April's face. 

"Nothing. I didn't say anything." Roger covered his face with his hand.

April leaped up and jumped on Roger.

"What did you _say_?!" she giggled.

"Marry me?" he asked in a small voice from behind his hand, peeking through his fingers.

" 'Kay," she smiled. This wasn't the phoney smile she had plastered on her face for the last week to make Roger feel better, it was genuine.

"Really?" Roger asked, snaking his arms around her waist.

"Yes, really."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

April leaned her forehead down onto Roger's and kissed him gently. His hands wandered up into her hair and the early morning dissolved into a fit of passion.

-----------------

Review?!


	10. Chapter 10

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Chapter 10

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A/N: I'm done! No more exams! =) Enjoy this (kind of short) chapter and tell me what you think! 

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Mark rolled over in his bed and sighed. He couldn't get comfortable. He rolled over again, rolling _into_ something. He heard Maureen giggle. Mark turned over to face his girlfriend and laughed quietly without changing his expression.

"Sorry."

"It's okay," she kissed him.

Mark pulled away and lay on his back, looking up at the ceiling. Maureen tried to run her fingers up and down the side of his arm, but he jerked it away.

"You alright, Pookie?" she cocked her head at him, leaning up on her elbow.

"Yeah," he replied distractedly.

"Good." Maureen started to kiss Mark's neck.

"Where were you last night?" he asked. She pulled away and looked at him.

"Well?" He was growing impatient, and finally turned to face Maureen.

"Uh, at a friend's house."

"A friend. . ."

"Yeah. She's going through a really bad break up and wanted someone to eat ice cream and cry with," she laughed nervously.

Mark looked down. "When did you get home?" He knew it was after three in the morning. He was a light sleeper and he heard her come in, but he wanted to hear it from her.

"Uh, late. Or early, I guess. . ." she laughed again, sliding her hand into his. Mark didn't pull away this time, but he didn't buy it.

"Why didn't you tell me where you were going?" he asked gently.

"Well, she just called, and you were out filming. . .so I just left," she tried. Her smile faded and a slight look of affliction crossed over her face.

"Why didn't you tell April or Roger where you were going?"

"I wouldn't usually, so I didn't think to."

Mark pulled his hand away from Maureen. He wanted to crawl into a hole and die. He could easily tell Maureen was lying, that she was trying to think things up on the spot. But he really didn't want to be mad at her. He couldn't be. She was his goddess, his wild, impetuous, gorgeous Maureen. He loved her too much to think anything negative about her.

"What was her name?"

"Excuse me?" Maureen thought her cover was blown.

"Your friend's name."

"Oh. Joanne," she replied honestly. She looked up at Mark and he examined her expression. He could tell she was telling the truth.

__

'Well, I guess that's it, then. She was visiting a friend. I should have known she wouldn't do anything like that.'

Mark still felt funny inside, like something wasn't right. He tried to ignore the feeling and stepped out of the bed.

"I'm gonna go and take a shower," he said monotonously. 

" 'Kay. I'll go make us some breakfast. Sound good?"

Mark turned around and smiled. "Yeah, I'll be out in a bit."

Maureen watched Mark saunter out of the room and waited until she heard the bathroom door shut. She stomped her feet under the covers and threw her pillow against the small window adjacent to their bed. How did she get into this mess? She didn't know what to do. She turned over and buried her face in the pillow. 

Mark. It smelled like Mark. She couldn't take it. She turned back over and got out of bed. She grabbed Mark's old Brown University sweat shirt and threw it on over her small t-shirt. She slowly walked out into the loft and stood numbly in the kitchen. She could hear April and Roger's voices in the next room and Mark's water running from the bathroom. She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the counter. Shaking her head of any thoughts of Mark and Joanne, Maureen pulled open the fridge. She grimaced when there was nothing but beer and tofu (a new found liking of Collins') in it, and swung it shut. She plopped down on a stool at the island and noticed there a newspaper from the previous day, probably Benny's or Collins'. She sat and flipped the first section open, and began to read. 

Almost immediately Roger and April emerged from Roger's room, fully dressed and holding hands. Maureen looked up and April flashed a smile to her. The couple sat down at the island across from Maureen. 

"Morning," April smiled, looking at Maureen directly in the eyes.

"Morning," she replied. "If you're looking for breakfast, we've got nothing."

"No, we're just. . ." she trailed off, still smiling.

Maureen glanced over to Roger who was also smiling at her, though his seemed considerably more forced, then back at April. 

"What?"

"Can't we just be happy to see you?" Roger asked, clearly trying to be polite.

"_You_ can't." She wrinkled her nose. "What? What'd I do?" She looked to April for an answer.

"Nothing." Her smiled grew wider and she looked over to Roger who nodded. "We're gonna get married!"

"What?!" Maureen's eyes bugged out of her head.

"We want you to be there."

"_She_ wants you to be there. . ." Roger corrected her.

"What? I don't— I don't understand. . ."

"Lemme break it down for you," Roger spoke slowly as if he was explaining something to a toddler. "When two people love each other very much—"

"I know what you mean, dumbass! Just. . .what?"

April leaned in and lowered her voice. "We're gonna go to the courthouse and we want you to be our witness."

"But you guys haven't been dating very long. . ." Maureen protested slowly. Were they crazy? They'd been together for what, four months, and now they're getting married?

"Shut up, we want to do this," Roger scoffed at her, and April raised an eyebrow at him. Roger sighed loudly. "Please?"

Maureen laughed. "Roger Davis, begging? I guess I can't turn that down. . .When are you guys going?"

"Now," April replied.

"Now? Like, now now?"

Roger rolled his eyes, "_Yes_, Maureen!"

"Oh. Uh, okay. Let's go then." She smiled in disbelief and hopped off her bar stool.

"Thank you so much, Maureen. This means a lot to me," April smiled and linked arms with her.

"No problem, sweetie." She picked up her purse from the couch and looked over at Roger.

"I'm not gonna thank her," he said to April. She gave him a menacing glare. "No! I'm not gonna thank her!" He slid into his shoes and took April's hand. "Come on, baby."

April and Maureen put on their shoes and coats, and left the loft with Roger.

"Maureen, are you still wearing pyjamas?"

-----------------

Mark opened the bathroom door, towelling off his blonde hair. When he didn't smell anything cooking, he called to Maureen as he wandered out into the kitchen.

"I thought you said you were gonna—"

Where was Maureen? He checked in their bedroom, too, only to find it empty. He tossed the towel on the bed and sat down, dropping his head in his hands.

Why did she think she could do this? She left again, just like that. No warning. Did she not realize that Mark had feelings too? That he was worried when Maureen disappeared for hours at a time and would then come back, acting like it was all okay?

Mark rubbed his temples with the palms of his hands and stood up. He quickly pulled on a pair of jeans over his boxers and a sweater from the closet, and grabbed his camera from on top of the dresser. He stormed out of his bedroom and into the loft, throwing on his coat and scarf. He put his shoes on and left, slamming the door behind him.

-----------------

Several hours later, Roger, April, and Maureen emerged from the courthouse. April was all smiles, and Roger was beaming. Neither had been this happy since they found out about having AIDS. Hell, neither had been this happy _ever_. 

The three descended the stairs in front of the building. Roger was cradling April in his arms and the two were laughing like they hadn't in a long time. Maureen stuffed her hands in her pockets and watched as her breath turned to 'smoke' in the cold winter air.

"Fuck, do you guys know what time it is?" Maureen realized her watch was still at Joanne's.

They reached the bottom of the stairs, and Roger was spinning April around. She struggled to look at her watch.

"Uh, quarter to three – Roger, put me down!" She started slapping at him and laughing loudly as he psyched her out, eventually throwing her into a snow bank. 

"Oh shit. I gotta go, I was supposed to. . .I'll see you back at the loft, okay?" she said quickly, walking away from the newlyweds. They didn't even realize she was leaving, they were too wrapped up in their big moment.

Maureen walked quickly down the street and hoped she had some money in her usually very empty wallet. She pulled it out looked inside, finding a twenty dollar bill. She'd stop at a convenience store, pick something up to eat, take the subway home, and tell Mark why she inadvertently ditched him.

As she walked down the sidewalk, she came to a conclusion. Standing there, watching April and Roger get married made her realize that she wanted Mark. Not Joanne, not John, not anybody else. She wanted Mark. When she saw how happy April was, she realized that that's what she wanted, too, and she wanted to share it with Mark.

-----------------

Mark sat on the couch in the living room watching the few shots he got that morning. He went out to get his mind off of everything, but it didn't work. After only an hour, he returned home and received a call from his mother. As usual, she had asked him if he had eaten anything lately, and told him that he was going to waste away. She asked him to visit her, and told him to call his father. He refused to call Mark. Not that he was a bad father, because he wasn't. He was just stubborn, and when he found out his son wanted to move to New York to become a filmmaker, he wasn't too pleased.

Mark tried to think about anything but Maureen without much success. While he was filming, he kept thinking about how much better the shot would be with her in it. That was the reason he came home. But once home, he couldn't think about anything else. He didn't want to think about it, but he couldn't help himself. He didn't understand why she would just up and leave. Where was she going all this time? Why wouldn't she tell him the truth?

Mark rested his feet up on the coffee table, feeling it start to give out underneath him. This loft was such a piece of crap. He sighed and dropped his camera on the couch next to him, hoping he could try and take a nap. He leaned his head back, when he heard someone outside the door. It slowly opened to reveal Maureen. Fantastic.

"Hey Pookie," she smiled. She put the plastic bag she was holding on the coffee table before taking off her shoes and coat. Mark lay still with his eyes shut. Maybe she'd think he was asleep. No such luck. He felt her sit on the couch and rub the back of his neck.

"Marky. . .Marky-Marky-Marky," she giggled quietly, nipping at his ear.

"Stop it," Mark scolded her coldly. He was surprised that it came out as harsh as it did.

"Sorry," she replied sheepishly. Mark was surprised. Maureen never felt stupid, but now she was blushing slightly and looking down at her feet.

"It's okay." Mark stood up and walked towards the kitchen, and quickly turned around. "No, it's not okay. What the hell, Maureen. What are you doing?"

Maureen looked up at her boyfriend with a blank expression on her face.

"I don't. . .what?"

"Where the hell did you go? Or are you going to dance around it and make something up again?"

He watched Maureen staring back at him as he said this. Now he felt horrible. He shouldn't have brought it up.

"I went out with April and Roger."

"Okay. . .and could you tell me the truth?" Mark asked slowly.

"I am, Mark."

"I'm not stupid! They're in his room right now, where they've been for the last week! Jesus, Maureen!" 

Maureen stood up slowly, still looking at Mark and walked over to Roger's bedroom. She opened the door wide so Mark could see inside. Mark immediately felt like an idiot and quickly walked to Maureen, embracing her in his arms.

"I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, sweetie," she laughed, placing her arms around his waist. "I figured you'd be mad."

"Where did you go then?" Mark asked as he led Maureen over to the couch. Her face immediately lit up and she leaned in closer to Mark.

"They got married!" she exclaimed.

"What?!" Mark asked in disbelief.

"That's what _I_ said," she explained. "But they wanted me to be their witness and they went to the courthouse and just. . .got married!"

"W-why?" Mark couldn't help but laugh when he saw how excited Maureen was.

"April said it was because they wanted to be together for as long as they have left. I think they're overreacting if you ask me, but whatever. Oh! Pookie!" She jumped up from her seat on the couch and grabbed the plastic bag from the coffee table, taking it into the kitchen.

"I believe I owe you breakfast," she smiled. 

-----------------

Be kind, re…view…


	11. Chapter 11

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Chapter 11

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A/N: Here's a short, but pivotal chapter. 

And to **Kelby**, Mark and Roger's relationship is still on the rocks after what happened/didn't happen with the heroine and with Maureen. They kind of talked it through in chapter 7, but they're still not on the best of terms with each other. Their friendship is currently in that awkward phase after a fight when you don't really want to talk to them for fear of sparking another, where you're all, "Well, if he won't talk to me then I won't talk to him". Thanks for the feedback, though! =)

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April hugged Roger tightly around his waist. Roger pulled the covers up around them more noticing that April was shivering, but he figured it probably wasn't because she was cold.

"Mrs. April Davis. I like that," Roger smiled.

"Mrs. April Maria Cecilia Francesca Davis. Ugh, just April Davis." 

Roger laughed. "So many names."

"Yeah, well, my parents wanted to fit it all in in case they didn't have another baby. Leave it to them to give me four names and not even let me be a 'third'," she giggled. "Love you."

"Love you too," Roger replied, kissing the top of her head.

April gave a big shiver and sat up. She scooped her clothes up from the floor and changed into them quickly under the covers. Roger followed her cue and did the same, and April settled herself on his shoulder again.

"Cold?"

"Mmm," she replied groggily. 

"I guess we need to find you a ring, Mrs. Davis."

"Nah. I just need a you."

Roger laughed silently. "Dork. I think the Hungarians are gonna hate me."

"Why?" She looked up at him, raising an eyebrow.

"I didn't go to any practices for the whole week," he laughed. "Ah well." He rested his head against April's. "I bet your parents think you're dead or something."

April cleared her throat and Roger realized the probably wasn't the smartest thing he could have said at that moment. He quickly tried to change the subject.

"What about work?"

"I called Seth and told him what happened. I figured he understand."

"You told your boss?" Roger was taken aback by this. He wasn't sure how he felt about that.

"Well, I can't get fired, Roger. I need the money. We need the money," she quickly corrected herself.

Roger suddenly felt very useless. April was providing for the both of them. He didn't like that. He wanted to be able to pull his own weight, not have to rely on his wife. 

"You're right. Sorry baby," he replied distractedly. "Wanna get some lunch?"

"Yeah, sure." She sat up, brushing her blonde hair out of her eyes. She slumped over and yawned.

"Or go back to sleep. . ?" Roger laughed, pulling he back down to him. He pulled her close and kissed her temple. She grimaced slightly and wiggled out of his grasp, moving over a bit to leave a fair amount of space between the two.

"You okay?" Roger asked.

April sighed and put the palms of her hands over her eyes. "What are we going to do, Rog?"

"What do you mean?" He turned onto his side to face her and draped his arm over her stomach.

April removed her hands from her eyes, and her arms flopped down to her sides.

"What are we gonna do? Where are we gonna live? I mean, you could move into my place so we don't have to share a house with Mark and everyone, but when my parents find out about us, that means they'll probably stop paying my rent. And I can't afford that kind of apartment! Especially if you're not working. I guess I could go back to school for teacher's college, but I doubt I could even afford that with my pay at work!"

Roger stared at April as she ranted. He wanted to laugh. Just a day earlier she refused to discuss their future, now it was weighing heavily on her mind. He tugged gently on the ends of her hair and smiled.

"Hey, we'll be okay. We'll figure something out, right? We always do. I'll find a better job and we'll be okay."

April turned her head to Roger. "But you love playing. I don't want you to just. . .quit because we're poor."

"I'll do both. We'll be okay, I promise." Roger leaned over and kissed April gently. She welcomed it, but when Roger attempted to deepen the kiss, she pulled away, turning her head away from him.

"You're really worried about this, aren't you?" 

"Yeah, I am. . .We can't just live in your bedroom for the rest of our lives." Her eyes drifted up to the ceiling and she rested both of her hands over her stomach.

"Sure we can!" he teased, wrapping an arm around her waist. She shrugged him off.

"Roger. . ."

Roger immediately fell silent and pinched at the seams on the sides of his jeans.

"We _can't_ do this," April quietly spoke up. Roger was about to say something when she cut him off.

"No, we can't and you know it. We need to. . .un-fuck up our lives." Her eyes welled up with tears, but she blinked them back profusely. She was so sick of crying.

"Well, what are we supposed to do?" 

April took a deep breath and dabbed her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt.

"I want to go to rehab."

Roger repeated her, trying to comprehend what she said. "You want to go—"

"To rehab. I'm sick of this. I feel like crap. It's been like, two days since we last shot up, and I'm dying. I'm shivering, I'm sweating, I feel like I need to throw up all the time. I—I can't live like this." April stopped before a sob escaped her lips and her hands moved back up to her eyes to stop her tears.

Roger lay there, frozen. He didn't make a move to comfort his now sobbing wife. He couldn't look at her.

"I want you to come with me," she half whispered, as if she was afraid of his response. 

Roger shot up into a sitting position and blinked several times.

"No," he said sternly. April sat up, too, watching his eyes blaze with sudden emotion and force. She reached for his hand and spoke gently.

"Please, Roger, we'll do it together. You said—"

"No!" Roger yelled again, louder this time. He tore his hand out of April's grasp and jumped out of the bed. April watched him as he exited the room in a fury.

"Roger, please!" she tried to call him, but her voice was hoarse from the tears and her sudden fright. She crawled across the bed to the door as Roger left, swinging the door open so hard that it slammed shut after him.

"Please. . ." She shut her eyes tightly and curled up into a ball at the foot of the bed. She heard a deep voice trying to talk to Roger in the other room, but didn't even try to make out what it was saying. The front door slammed and she heard footsteps coming towards the bedroom.

Collins knocked lightly on the door and opened it slowly.

"Everything okay in here?" he asked carefully. 

April shook her head. Collins sat down on the edge on the bed.

"What happened?"

April burst up from her spot on the bed and stood up on it.

"God, I hate him. I hate him! We're supposed to be married, but he won't _do_ anything!"

"Whoa-whoa-whoa, what? You're married?!" Collins asked, wide-eyed. He patted the space next to him, hoping April would sit back down, but she didn't. Collins looked nervous, so she stepped down from the bed and paced in the small space between the bed and the window.

"Yeah, yesterday, he proposed and we got married. I told him I want to go to rehab so my life isn't completely screwed up for the rest of my life or anything, and he just leaves! What the hell am I supposed to do?! My husband is an asshole who can't stay put unless he's high or getting laid!" she stood facing Collins, her arms limply at her sides. She was still crying, but anger overwhelmed her.

Collins stared at her and pulled her down next to him, resting a gentle hand on her back.

"Don't worry, April. He'll be home soon. He'll realize he doesn't have any money or anything, and I'm pretty sure he wasn't wearing socks when he left," he laughed.

April looked skeptical, but forced a smile. She crawled over to the headboard and hugged her knees to her chest. Collins noticed her sudden placidity and moved to sit beside her. He wrapped an arm around her, and she practically collapsed into him, crying softly.

"I hate my life," she breathed.

"Don't say that. Things may seem shitty now, but that means things can only get better." Collins stroked April's hair and rocked her back and forth.

"I want to go."

"Then go."

"I can't do it, not without Roger. He promised we'd get through it all together," she sniffed.

"Roger will probably take a longer time to warm up to the idea. He's stubborn, he won't accept the fact that he needs help."

April silently deliberated Collins' words. 

"No, I won't do it without him. I won't."

"Then don't. Take your time, sweetie. I'm not going to preach to you. You have to make the decision for yourself."

"You're like a cuddlier version of my dad," April laughed through her tears.

"I get that a lot." Collins smiled and kissed the top of her head.

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Review, please! They make me feel loved. . . ; )


	12. Chapter 12

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Chapter 12

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Roger had returned home the next afternoon. When April asked him where he went, he refused to answer and he had sat silently sat on the couch for the rest of the day. Nobody had attempted to talk to him until Collins suggested that they all go out for dinner in honour of Roger and April's marriage. Everyone was enthusiastic about the idea except for Roger, who responded with a sullen shrug and a grunt.

The group walked over to the Life Café, joking and playing around. Benny was once again out with Mimi, and it was Noah in his place. Everybody had become well-acquainted with Noah, as he had been at the loft several times since they first met him. Everybody agreed that he was a lot of fun and just what Collins needed in his life. 

The group finally made it to the Café after what seemed like far too long in the bitter late January cold. They were seated almost immediately and greeted by Eddie who took their drink orders and returned with them very quickly.

"I believe congratulations are in order!" Collins laughed from his seat across from Roger and April. Roger had his arms crossed over his chest and was leaned back in his seat, sulking. April was trying to make the best of the situation, forcing herself to smile and laugh with the rest of the group. She was trying to ignore Roger's morose attitude and pretend that everything was peachy keen. As far as she knew, Collins didn't know about her HIV status, and she wanted to keep it that way for a little while longer.

"Hear hear!" Mark lifted his glass and the other four did the same. They clinked their glasses together, and took drinks from their cups as Roger rolled his eyes and rubbed his face with his hand. April noticed this, and as the others continued to talk and scan their menus, she turned to Roger. She spoke quietly.

"Roger, please don't do this."

He turned his face away from her and she gently placed a hand on his arm.

"Stop it, Roger," she whispered harshly. She was tired of the attitude he had been giving everybody since he got home. He refused to talk, refused to even tell April where he was or what he was doing, even though she had a pretty good idea.

April shook her head and turned herself back to the others. She didn't want to deal with him right now. Mark, who was red in the race from laughing, nudged April in the shoulder to get her attention.

"So Mrs. Davis," he held his fist to his hand, talking into it as if it were a microphone. "Why'd you do it?"

"Because I _love_ him!" April sang, giggling. She heard Roger snort from behind her, but she ignored him. "Where's Eddie? I'm starving!"

Collins looked around and shrugged. "Should be here soon, I guess." He took Noah's hand in his own and smiled. Everything was wonderful in his life. He just wished it were the same for everybody around him, too. Well, at least it was for Mark and Maureen, who were currently all over each other at the other end of the table.

"Are those two ever _not_ . . .doing that?" Noah asked with a wrinkled nose.

"Well, hey, you've only been around for the last relatively peaceful week. Sometimes it gets really scary and Maureen turns into Satan and tries to kill Mark and will eat your face if you get in the way," Collins said, trying to sound serious.

April and Noah laughed and Maureen broke away from Mark. 

"I _can_ hear you!" she screeched.

"Indoor voices, Maureen," Noah laughed. She rolled her eyes and giggled, returning her attention to Mark.

April laughed and tried to ignore the fact that Roger's eyes were glued to her back. She smiled when she saw Eddie appear at the table and sighed. "Finally!"

"April," he nodded to her. "Patience is a virtue." She stuck her tongue out at him and he turned to Collins and Noah, taking down their orders quickly. He looked over to Roger who shoved his menu in Eddie's direction.

"Burger."

Eddie took his menu and raised an eyebrow. "Okay." He stared at April as he turned his entire body to Mark and Maureen, who were still attached at the mouth.

"Wow, that's unpleasant," he pretended to cringe. "Can I get you two anything?"

Mark's arm flew up into the air and he pointed repeatedly at Roger. Everybody burst out laughing, except of course for Roger, who found this offensive.

"You want Roger for dinner? You know, that's cool if that's what you guys are into. . ." Everybody knew very well that Mark was trying to say that they wanted the same thing as Roger, but they found it more fun to screw around with him instead.

After much arm-waving from Mark, Maureen pulled away from him.

"We both want hamburgers, _the same as Roger_!" she explained.

"Ahh," Eddie pretended he came to a realization and laughed.

"Now me. . ?" April jokingly asked meekly.

"Alrighty, Miss April, what can I get for ya?"

"Life salad, please," she smiled.

"Certainly. Be back in a bit!" He turned on his heel and disappeared into the slowly growing crowd in the restaurant.

"Mo, Collins told me that you're in a play," Noah told Maureen. Her face lit up and a grin spread across her face.

"Yeah! I'm playing Cecily in _The Importance of Being Earnest_!" she replied loudly. She was clearly a little tipsy, but she continued to tell Noah and anybody else who would listen about how she was playing a lead and how rehearsals were going.

Roger grasped onto April's arm. "What the hell was that?" he asked her.

She turned her head to him quickly. "What was what?"

"All that with Eddie, April. What the hell were you doing?"

April looked at him, baffled. "What are you talking about?"

"Uh, I dunno, we're supposed to be married and you're flirting with our waiter. That's what I'm talking about."

Roger watched her stare blankly at him. "What? I wasn't even, Roger. . ."

"Bullshit. You didn't want to marry me. Why did you, April? Why?" he asked. His voice was slowly raising and his temper was climbing.

"Baby, I love you. You know that. I wasn't flirting with him." 

Roger still looked skeptical. 

"Roger, believe me, okay? You're just cranky because you're crashed," she replied turning back to the group who had heard most of the argument but chose to ignore it, not wanting to get involved.

"God, you don't even know!—" he yelled.

"Roger, be quiet. Please," April looked down, resting a gentle hand on his arm. The table had stopped talking, and the couple was getting a few stares from some nearby patrons.

"You be quiet!" Roger stood up quickly. "You guys— Ugh! Just leave me the fuck alone!" Roger stormed away from the table and out of the Life quickly, leaving a silent April behind. An awkward hush fell over the table and most of the restaurant, but soon enough, the other tables were talking once again.

April sat hunched over with her arms crossed over her stomach. A few tears were rolling down her cheeks, though her expression was blank.

"Are you okay?" Collins asked gently. April shook her head and immediately felt stupid for causing such a scene. 

"You'll feel better when you eat something," he tried to help.

April shook her head again and tried to stop shaking. "Can we just go?" she asked quietly.

Everybody nodded dumbly.

"You can stay with us tonight, honey," Maureen offered. April nodded and stood up, carefully sliding into her coat. She picked up Roger's jacket which he left behind. Mark and Maureen followed suit, and Collins and Noah stood up. Collins embraced her took her face in his hands.

"I'm spending the night at Noah's, but will you be okay with those two?" her jerked his head over to Mark and Maureen who were playfully slapping at each other, giggling like school children. April let out a small laugh and nodded.

"Yeah. Go, I'll be fine." She hugged him back and said goodbye to Noah. She wandered out of the Café, clutching Roger's old leather jacket tightly. Maureen walked up ahead with her and Mark stayed behind at the table.

"I feel like we're dining and dashing or something," he grimaced. "I'll pay you back when you come back to the loft," he told Collins who laughed and shook his head.

"No, it's fine. It's not like you have any money to begin with," Collins joked.

Noah laughed, but Mark reassured him. "No, it's true. I live off the meals I eat at my mom's. Poverty line, buddy!" he grinned. "See you two later." He pointed at them and raised an eyebrow. "Be good!"

-----------------

April, Mark, and Maureen reached the loft and found it empty. They assumed Benny was still with Mimi, and nobody knew where Roger went.

"Will you be okay tonight?" Maureen asked. Mark tugged on the sleeve of her shirt and shook his head at her. "Oops. . ." she giggled. 

"Night, April. Holler if you need anything," Mark said, leading Maureen over to their bedroom. 

"What I do?" she asked as they stood at the foot of the bed, wrapping her arms around Mark's back.

"Nothing," he laughed. "Go to bed."

"Okay," she replied, kissing him quickly. "I'll just go use the washroom and be back in a sec, okay?"

"Sure." Mark was already turning down the covers and rubbing his eyes. Maureen smiled and walked back out into the loft. She noticed April was still sitting on the couch, so wandered over in that direction.

"Not going to bed yet?" she asked, looking around the room.

"No, just not tired." April sniffed and rubbed at her nose.

"Oh," Maureen responded, walking over to the kitchen, rummaging over the top of the counter and the island.

"Ah-hah!" she exclaimed triumphantly, raising the phone in the air. She tried to do her best Terminator impression and pointed the phone at her. "I'll be back," she laughed at her own joke and sighed loudly walking into the bathroom, making sure the door was tightly shut behind her.

She sat down on the edge of the bathtub and turned the phone on. She slowly dialled the phone number and waited for an answer.

__

"Hello?" a groggy female voice asked.

"Hey, Joanne? It's me."

__

"Honeybear! How are you?" The voice suddenly sounded more aware and perky.

"I'm good. Uh, listen Pookie, did I leave my watch at your house the other night?"

__

"You did. I thought it was yours, but I wasn't–"

"Good. Do you think I could. . .pick it up sometime soon?"

__

"Of course, what kind of question is that? Of course. Why don't you come over now?" That question hung in the air uncomfortably. Maureen had to admit, she did kind of want to go and see Joanne, but she couldn't. She was happy with Mark, she reminded herself.

"You know I can't, Jo," Maureen tried to reason. "Tomorrow, maybe, okay? After rehearsal I'll try to drop by your office."

__

"Sure," Joanne sounded kind of hurt. _"I'll see you then?"_

"Yeah. Bye Pookie."

__

"Bye."

Maureen hung up the phone and rubbed the back of her head. She didn't want to hurt Joanne like that, but she had to. She couldn't be with her anymore. She had to draw the line. She stood up quickly and exited the bathroom. April was still sitting on the couch, and since Maureen didn't feel like talking to her, she took the phone into the bedroom with her. She crept into the room and noticed Mark asleep, face down in the pillow. Maureen smiled to herself and put the phone on top of the dresser. She quickly got changed out of her clothes and into something more comfortable and slid under the covers with him. She turned on her side to face him and kissed him on the cheek, resting a hand on his back. She'd go and get her watch from Joanne tomorrow, and everything would be back to normal.

-----------------

April studied her fingernails and continued to chew on her thumbnail. She wanted to kill Roger, but at the same time she wanted to able to kiss him and make everything better. She didn't know why he refused to get help. He was stubborn, but not so stubborn that he would refuse help from his own wife. She thought she had gotten through to him lately. She wanted to move on from this horrible time in her life and work towards a better future with Roger. Unfortunately, that was harder than she thought it would be.

She stared at the coffee table and traced over the wood grain with the tip of her finger. She wanted to go to rehab and get better, but she wasn't sure if she was strong enough to do it alone. She wasn't strong enough to deal with what was going on now. She couldn't handle feeling so physically uncomfortable and sick all the time, and she knew that she couldn't keep using. That would just make her worse. It killed her to think that everything that was happening was actually happening to _her_. She wanted to wake up and realize that this was just a horrible nightmare. There was no escape, though, and she knew that. Unless. . . 

April's mind drifted back to the image of the hot pink razor floating in her bathtub that was engraved into her memory. She had played out the scenario several times in her head. She knew that if she had gone through with it, everybody would have been better off. Roger wouldn't be missing, her parents would be saving money, and Roger's friends wouldn't have to pretend they cared. She sighed out of frustration and tried to stop thinking altogether without success.

She couldn't do it without Roger, and she hated herself for that. She wanted desperately to assert her own independence, but couldn't. She had always been too sheltered and never had the chance to do anything on her own.

Fuck it all. She was gonna do it. If other people could, so could she. With or without Roger she would fix her life and improve it as much as she could. Roger could do whatever the hell he wanted with his life, it wasn't her problem.

She stood up with a new sense of strength and went into to Roger's bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

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Like it? Lump it? Review, please! 


	13. Chapter 13

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Chapter 13

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A/N: Special thanks to **Mari**, my faithful reviewer! Girl power! Anyway, enjoy & review 'cause you love me!

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"Baby," Mark gently shook Maureen. "Time to get up." 

He heard her moan quietly and sigh.

"No." She buried her head underneath her pillow and her arm flopped over the side of the bed.

"Yes," Mark laughed, pulling the pillow off her head and rubbing her back. "Please?"

Maureen turned over with her eyes still shut and smiled. "Only because I kind of like you."

Mark noticed the gold locket around her neck and smiled. He picked it up between his fingers and examined it, when Maureen opened her eyes and made a face. 

"What are you doing?"

"You're wearing it."

Maureen rubbed her eyes and stretched. "Duh," she giggled. Her hand travelled up into Mark's hair and she yawned. "Can't I sleep a little while longer?" she pouted. Mark was a sucker for the pout.

Mark looked over at the small alarm clock by the bed and frowned. "Sorry. Your rehearsal's at 11, right?" Maureen nodded. "Well, it's 9:30 now, so you've gotta get going."

Rehearsal. Shit. That meant she had to go see Joanne afterwards. She didn't need a watch. Maybe she could just buy a new one. She'd had that one for a long time, anyway. It was old and the band was practically falling apart and when she moved her arm she could hear pieces jiggling around inside. But she had to break it off with Joanne, because she was in love with Mark. She had to get out of the relationship before Mark found out. And she didn't want to hurt him. She could do it. She was mature and reasonable and she could handle it. She wouldn't give in to the temptation and she'd break it off, and everything would be fine.

Maureen stuck out her tongue and got out of bed. She stretched again and looked back at Mark, who was laying back down with his eyes shut.

"If I don't get to sleep than neither do you, Mister!" she laughed, attacking Mark with her pillow.

-----------------

April heard the noises from the next room that woke her up. She carefully opened her eyes and smelled some kind of breakfast food scent wafting in from the kitchen and lifted her wrist and looked at the watch that she had forgotten to remove the night before. She was surprised to find out that it was almost two in the afternoon. She went to sleep very early, at about ten o'clock, but figured it was probably all thoughts of Roger swimming through her mind that made her so tired and bogged down.

She sat up and leaned back against the headboard. The all-too familiar nauseous feeling was once again present in her stomach, but she had become accustomed to ignoring it. She didn't feel up to getting up and out of bed just yet, so she sat in silence, thinking. She looked around Roger's messy and disorganized bedroom. He was such a slob, but it was an endearing quality in him. There were dirty clothes strewn all over the floor. The window had a crack in it, which was covered by connected pieces of duct tape. The closet door was missing a hinge which could probably be found underneath the clothing piles. She didn't care, though. She was pretty sloppy, too.

April remembered the decision she had made the night before. Who was she kidding? She couldn't go into rehab alone. She would wait for Roger to return home, then she'd calmly sit him down and convince him to go. She needed him there with her, and besides, he needed to get off drugs, too. He was more addicted than she was, so she couldn't even think of how he was feeling without shooting up if she felt so horrible right now.

She took the ratty blanket off of Roger's bed and wrapped it around her shoulders, stepping out of bed. She pulled it taut around her and opened the door. She hit a wall of the strong smell of bacon and eggs and her stomach began churning. She ignored the feeling again and sat down at the island with Mark who was eating a very late breakfast.

"Morning," he greeted her through a mouth full of food. April smiled in response.

"How are you?" he asked after swallowing.

April shrugged. "I'm okay. I've been better, I guess," she replied. Mark nodded and turned back to his food. 

"Want some?" he asked, pushing his plate towards her. April immediately pushed it back.

"No, eat it," she told him. "I'll get something a bit later. Is this your breakfast?"

Mark nodded again. "Yeah, after Maureen leaves the loft I live a double life in which I sleep. A lot," he laughed. April forced a small smile and rested her elbows on the table top. She rested her head in her hands and breathed slowly.

"You sure you're alright?" Mark asked. April shook her head.

"It'll pass."

Mark shrugged and placed his empty plate in the sink, rinsing it off quickly. 

"Okay." Mark left the kitchen and sat down on the couch.

"Where's Collins?" April asked slowly, her head still in her hands.

"Class. He'll probably be home around five."

April sighed and shut her eyes tightly. This wasn't happening. She stood up carefully and walked over to the bathroom, using whatever she could for support. The blanket had fallen off of her, but she could care less at the moment. Her legs felt wobbly and she was sweating profusely. When she got into the bathroom, she shut the door and sat down on the floor. She pressed her hands on the cold tile beneath her and sighed slowly. The cool tiles felt good on her skin. She carefully moved over so she was sitting in front of the toilet and she lifted the seat. This was going to be a long day.

----------------

Maureen stood in the carefully carpeted hallway in Joanne's office in front of the black door, her hand poised to knock. 

__

'I can do this,' she kept repeating to herself in her mind as she studied the gold-coloured plaque on the door. She knocked and waited for a short moment, but when nobody answered right away she turned around and began to walk away.

__

'Chicken.'

"Maureen?" She stopped in her tracks. That would be Joanne. She slowly turned around with a nervous smile on her face.

"Hey Pookie," she greeted.

"Come on in, I've got your watch for you." The slightly taller woman smiled and open the door for Maureen to come in. She did so, and silently sat down on one of the chairs facing Joanne's desk.

"I missed you last night," Joanne smiled, shutting the door behind her. "I haven't seen you in a while. I miss you."

Maureen gave a small shrug. "Miss you, too." No, Maureen, stop it. That's not how you get out of a relationship. 

Joanne stepped over to the coat rack by her door and rummaged through her pocket until she found the watch that she was looking for. She moved over to her desk and sat down behind it, sliding the watch across to Maureen. 

"You came at a good time. I just finished up with a client."

"Oh," Maureen replied quietly, looking down into her lap. She didn't know what to do now.

"Are you okay?" Joanne asked, concerned. "You seem kind of despondent."

Maureen looked up and smiled. "No, I'm okay. Just, tired, I guess. Rehearsal does that to a person." Both women smiled and sat in silence. Maureen reached across the desktop and grabbed her watch, glancing down at it quickly. 

"Oh, crap! It's almost 4! I gotta get going, Pookie," she lied. It just felt so _awkward_.

"Oh, sure, yeah, of course. Mark will be waiting," Joanne nodded. She wasn't bitter or angry, though. She understood Maureen's situation and knew that she wanted to ease out of the relationship. Joanne was very understanding, and that was one of the qualities Maureen loved in her. _Liked_ in her.

"Hey, why don't we go out for dinner sometime this week?" she asked. "I mean, if you want to. We don't have to. . ."

"Sure!" Maureen answered excitedly. "I'd love that." 

__

'Good job, Maureen. Way to let her down easy.'

Both women stood up. Joanne walked Maureen over to the door and hugged her tightly.

"Call me?" Joanne asked.

"Definitely," Maureen smiled warmly. "I will talk to you soon, then." She kissed Joanne quickly and slid out the door. She walked down the hallway and out the front door, down the steps from the stoop. She walked down the block, and ducked into an alley between two high-rise apartment buildings.

"Fuck!" she screamed, jumping up and down. She kicked at the walls and continued to yell obscenities some more. 

"So apparently I want Joanne," she said to herself. "This isn't good!" she screamed one last time, slamming her foot against the wall. She sighed and rubbed her slightly injured ankle and shut her eyes to regain composure before walking back out onto the street. She tried to ignore the few stares she was getting from passer-bys and proceeded to hop on the subway and return home to the loft.

-----------------

Mark finished writing on the sticker label and stuck it onto the video tape sitting in front of him on the coffee table. He had finished making Maureen's anniversary video. He had put together images of them at various locales in New York, and sure most of the shots were of her, but he knew she'd still like it. He smiled to himself and walked over into their bedroom, hiding the tape in a dresser drawer. He left the room and went back over to the couch in the living room. He could hear the sounds of April throwing up in the bathroom, but he continued to try and tune it out. She had been in and out of the bathroom all afternoon. When she wasn't getting sick, she was either shivering or sweating and worrying about getting sick. Mark had tried to get her to at least drink some water, but she refused to. She could be as stubborn as Roger sometimes.

Where was Roger? Mark was getting worried about his friend. He didn't want to be, though, because of all the trouble he had put him through lately. Roger was driving Mark crazy, but even so, he was kind of offended that he asked Maureen to be the witness at his and April's wedding before him. He shrugged it off, he didn't really care.

The loft door creaked open and Collins and Maureen entered laughing. Mark smiled and greeted both of them. The two arrivals hung up their coats and took off their shoes and sat down in the living room with Mark.

"How was your day?" Mark asked Collins.

"It was alright. Busy. I'm hungry. You two want anything?" he asked, standing up.

"No thanks," Maureen replied.

"Yeah, I'll have whatever you're having," Mark said, wrapping an arm around Maureen's shoulders. "Not hungry? Even after a day of work?" he asked her.

Maureen shrugged. "Nah."

The bathroom door creaked open slowly and April came shuffling out, paler than normal and frowning. Everybody looked over at her. Maureen gasped and Collins rushed over to her from the kitchen.

"Good Lord! Are you okay?!" he asked, rushing over to her. He placed a hand on her back and felt her shivering, leading her over to the chair in the living room.

April shook her head. "I'm going to rehab."


	14. Chapter 14

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Chapter 14

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A/N: This chapter gave me hell, let me tell you. Lots and lots of hell. Hopefully you'll enjoy it, though, and I think you'll all be quite surprised as to how I used the word "flabbergasted" in it. . . Yeah. Review, please! 

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Mark kicked through the slush on the sidewalk and shoved his hands into his pockets. His mind was racing with the events of the past week. He thought going for a walk might clear his mind, but if anything, it made him more depressed. Roger was still missing, and even though he didn't want to, Mark worried about him. He knew his friend was in some trouble, most likely with drugs. He was probably sick, too. He had left his coat when he stormed out of the Life the other night. Mark had no idea where to find him, though, and that killed him. Roger could be laying dead in an alleyway for all he knew, and he couldn't do a thing about it.

April had stuck to her decision about attending rehab, and got Collins to take her earlier in the day. He had come home in his four hours between classes and took April there via subway, rushing back to school afterwards. Mark had noticed that a bond had formed between April and Collins. She wouldn't talk very much unless it was to Collins, and she seemed to trust him more than anybody else in the group. April researched rehabilitation and detoxification centres around the city all night after she made her decision. She finally decided on one and quickly went to sleep. When she woke up, she called up her parents and had a very long, drawn-out, and loud 'discussion' with them about why she hadn't called them for the past week and a half, and where she was going for the next four months. Mark didn't try to eavesdrop, but he couldn't help it; April's yelling could be heard out in the hallways outside the loft. She had left a blank cheque on the counter, making Mark promise to at least ask Roger to go again, and if he agreed, to use that cheque to pay for it. She had also left a note for everyone, but said that they weren't allowed to read it until everybody was there, Roger included. She had a lot of hope in Roger's homecoming, and Mark wasn't sure why. 

Mark snapped back into reality to find himself standing on the crowded subway, his hand clinging onto the rail along the top. It was almost 5:30 in the evening, so it was pretty crowded with men and women in business suits clutching briefcases and purses, kids on their way to visit their friends, and even some students returning from school in their dark green uniforms. 

The subway slowed to a halt and Mark pushed his way off through the crowds of people carefully rearranging themselves so as not to hurt their cargo. He and a couple other people stepped onto the platform and Mark brushed himself off. He wandered out into the cold outdoors and put his hands back into his pockets. He didn't know what to do with them. They were usually wrapped around his camera or Maureen's hand. He sighed and continued to walk until he finally reached the loft. He climbed the stairs and walked down the hallways to the door. He heard quiet murmurs coming from inside. Mark opened the door and found Maureen sitting with her back to the door on the island, talking on the phone. 

"Yeah, I want to go, but I shouldn't go anytime this week. April just left and I can't just disappear again. Mark would die. I know. I will. Love you, too."

Mark watched her click the phone off and set it on the island, resting her head in her hands. He quickly backed up out of the doorway and shut the door silently.

Oh God. She loved someone else. Mark felt hot tears prickling at the back of his eyes, but they stayed put for the time being. He backed up against the wall and rubbed his blonde head with his hand. He tried to listen for any signs of movement in the loft, but heard nothing until it seemed that she got up and turned on the radio or the television. He stood, leaning against the wall for a few more minutes before he felt able to face Maureen. What the hell was going on? He stood up straight, and turned into the door, swinging it open. Maureen was now on the couch, flipping channels on the very old, very shitty television resting on an old plastic milk crate. She looked up and smiled, dropping the converter next to her.

"Hey."

"Hi," Mark replied. He couldn't look her in the eyes. He unwrapped his scarf from his neck and took off his coat, hanging it up slowly in the closet.

"You didn't take your camera. I saw it and I was like, this is weird!" she laughed, getting up and moving closer to him. Mark tried to hide a smile and laughed a bit at her general weirdness. He didn't want to give in, but it was too hard not to. He walked over to the kitchen, trying to remind himself about why he was mad at Maureen, but for some reason it escaped him. She didn't even need to talk - her exuberant charisma smothered him like a blanket over a fire, and he was at her service once again. All she needed to do was come up behind Mark and wrap her arms around his waist, and he was putty in her hands.

"You okay?" she asked as Mark turned around and wrapped his arms around her. He tried one last time to try and figure out why he should be mad at Maureen, but failed to do so, so he shrugged.

"Yup," he smiled. He leaned down and kissed her, his hand wandering up into her hair. He pulled her closer to him, but she pulled away, giggling quietly. "What?" he asked, grimacing.

"Nothing," she smiled, pulling away from him and flopping down back on the couch. Mark sighed and sat down next to her, grabbing onto her hand again.

"You alright? Like, with everything going on here?" Mark asked, turning his head to her. She shrugged and kept her eyes to the television.

"I guess. It doesn't really concern me, so. . ." _'I don't care,' _she wanted to finish, but resisted. "I mean, I don't really know April really well, and let's face it, I'm not a big Roger fan," she laughed quietly. "At least April's gonna get better, right?" she shrugged, turning to Mark.

He wanted desperately to pull her close and kiss her and tell her everything would be okay and they'd all live happily ever after, but figured it probably wouldn't be, at least for a very long time.

"Yeah, she'll be fine." He was trying to convince himself, too.

"And Roger'll come back. He always does," she shrugged again. "He runs out of money. . .or whatever. . ."

"Yeah," Mark replied. He turned back to the television and wrinkled his nose. "What are you watching?" 

Maureen laughed and tilted her head to the side. "It's either The Young and the Restless or Sesame Street."

"I think it's Sesame Street. Look, that's Big Bird." He pointed to a large grey blob on the left side of the screen.

"No, silly, that's the Black Knight!" she giggled, putting her feet up on the coffee table.

"The what?" Mark laughed, doing the same.

"The Black Knight! Victor Newman! God, Mark. . ." she scolded him jokingly. The two felt the coffee table start to move underneath them. Maureen started to push the table around with her feet making loud 'ghost noises' to accompany this. Mark laughed as she continued to do this for whatever reason, until he heard the table creak loudly. He sat up straight and quickly lifted Maureen's feet off the table as the table loudly crumbled into large wooden pieces underneath them.

"Oops. . ." she laughed, burying her face in her hands. Mark laughed and slid off the couch onto the floor, resting his hand on Maureen's knee. He lifted up a small piece of what was once the table and handed it to Maureen.

"Should we try and fix it?" he laughed, raising an eyebrow.

"I guess so," she replied. "But I'm not one for manual labour," she warned, examining her fingernails. 

"Oh, shut up you wiener!" He pulled her down next to him, and the two rummaged through the wooden pieces, trying to build them back into a coffee table.

"This is such a piece of shit," Maureen laughed, trying to shove two pieces together. "Why did you guys buy this piece of shit?"

"Hey, it's not shit! It's just. . .yeah, okay, it's shit. But it's our shit," he smiled, mock-fondly. "We found it." The pieces that Maureen was holding in her hands fell to the ground and she jumped back.

"Gross! Mark!" she screamed. "You just _found_ it!?" she asked, flabbergasted. 

"Yeah," he laughed. "Outside the building when me and Benny first moved in here. All we had were two mattresses and this couch, so we took whatever we could get."

Maureen wrinkled her nose and carefully rearranged the pieces of wood on the ground into a small pile. 

"At least now you have bed," she remarked, raising an eyebrow.

". . .Because we both know how much you like that!"

Maureen tried to hide a smile and hit her boyfriend in the shoulder. "Stupid. Why are we trying to do this?"

"Because it's sentimental. And you broke it. I think you owe me. Big time," Mark stated, pushing her pile of wood pieces back to her.

"We're never gonna get this back together! Let's just make a fire and call it a day," she sighed, laying down on the ground. Mark laughed and moved over so that he was sitting beside her. He slipped his hand into her smaller one and kissed her forehead. 

"I love you," he whispered.

Maureen smiled back at him and kissed him before he would expect a response. She didn't want to have to deal with anything more sentimental than a coffee table tonight.

Mark rested a hand on Maureen's waist and law down next to her, pushing the remaining pieces of table behind him. He ran his fingers gently over her cheek and started to play with her hair. 

Maureen felt completely guilt-stricken. She was so confused, and angry at herself for letting what was once a simple past time escalate into what seemed like the problem of the century. She really didn't want to hurt Mark, but she wasn't sure if that's who she wanted to be with anymore. She like Joanne a lot, but she couldn't admit to herself that she wanted to be with another woman rather than Mark. Every time Mark kissed her or told her that he loved her, she felt like a small part of her was dying. She hated herself for doing this to someone as sweet and wonderful as him, but she couldn't help it. She wanted everything.

The door opened and Collins and Noah stood in the doorway, hands linked together. Collins cleared his throat loudly and Noah wrinkled his nose.

"Seriously. _Ever_ not doing that?" he asked, burying his face in Collins' shoulder.

Mark and Maureen looked up and smiled sheepishly in response.

"Sorry. . ." Mark said, sitting up. Collins and Noah hung their coats up in the closet and stood over the two who were still sitting on the ground.

"What happened here?" Collins asked, looking down at the piles of old wood that were once a coffee table.

"We had an accident," Maureen laughed, getting Noah to help her up into a standing position.

"So you did," Noah replied, laughing. He hopped over the pieces and took a seat on the couch with Mark. Collins walked over to the kitchen and searched for something to eat, and Maureen followed, leaning forward onto the island.

"Hi," she smiled. Collins looked back and raised an eyebrow.

"Hey, Mo," he laughed. He pulled a bowl out of the cupboards and filled it with cereal.

"How are you?" she asked, resting her chin in the palm of her hand.

"Fine. And you?" he asked, confused. 

"I'm alright." Maureen watched Collins take a spoonful of cereal in his mouth and immediately her expression changed to one of sadness and fear. "Can I have a hug Collins?" she whispered. 

Collins was taken aback, but slid the spoon back into the bowl.

"Sure." He walked around the island and hugged Maureen, who smiled.

"Thanks." She smiled again and flopped down in the chair in the living room. Collins shrugged and called to Noah.

"Want anything to eat?"

Noah nodded, and stood up, halting his and Mark's conversation for now. He went over to Collins in the kitchen and the two rummaged for something more to eat.

Suddenly, the door flung open and Benny came storming in. He tore off his coat and took off his shoes with little effort, muttering something about 'the stupid fucking world'. He plopped down on the couch and crossed his arms over his chest, his head hanging low. Everybody's eyes followed him as he did this.

"You. . .okay, man?" Mark asked cautiously.

Benny shrugged and swiped at his nose. "She could have told me."

"What?" Maureen asked loudly. Everybody in the room shot her a look, and she slumped back into her seat.

"God. Mimi has AIDS and she didn't tell me!" Benny yelled, shooting up from his seat. "She didn't even tell me!"

Everybody remained silent, but Benny continued.

"Just all of the sudden 'Hey, Benny, guess what I got!' What the hell am I supposed to do?!"

Mark stood up and took Maureen's hand. He dragged her over to the closet and took out their coats. 

"We should go," he said quietly, helping Maureen into her coat.

"I don't want to-" Maureen started before she was shoved out the door by Mark.

"Bye guys!"

The door shut after them and they would hear Maureen's loud complaints coming from the hallway. The three men knew that Mark was trying to get Maureen out of something quickly before she could get her hands _into_ it.

"What the fuck am I supposed to do?!" Benny asked again, facing Collins and Noah in the kitchen.

"When did she tell you this?" Collins asked.

"Before. Before I got here. I was over at her place and she just. . .told me. I don't know how I'm supposed to take that!"

"What did you do?"

"I left! What else could I do?! God! I'm so. . . ugh." Benny sat back down on the couch and dropped his head into his hands. Collins made his way over to the living room with Noah.

"Did you tell her how you feel?" Collins asked again.

"How I feel?! I _feel_ very pissed off! Why didn't she tell me before this?!"

"Okay, Benny, man, you need to relax." Collins sat down next to Benny slowly and spoke calmly.

"Relax! How am I supposed to relax! My girlfriend has AIDS! She's sick! She's been dealing with whatever the hell AIDS does and she hasn't even let me help!" Benny jumped up from the couch, but Collins pulled him back down as Noah watched on from the kitchen.

"Whoa-whoa-whoa, you're worried about _her_?" Collins asked.

"Duh."

"Benny actually has feelings?" Collins asked, trying to stifle a laugh.

"Why the fuck are you laughing?! This isn't funny!"

"Sorry, but I thought you were pissed at her."

"I am! She didn't tell me! Mimi's sick and she wouldn't tell me! God, now I'm worried." Benny leaned back into the couch and covered his face with one of his hands.

"Why don't you tell her that?" Collins suggested.

"The man has a point. He knows what he's talking about," Noah spoke up from a stool in the kitchen.

Benny silently deliberated his friends' words for a moment and sighed loudly. 

"I guess. I'm still mad, though."

"You have no reason not to be. Just be sensitive towards her. She's dealing with it, too."

'Honestly, how does Collins do it?' Benny thought to himself. _'He always cares and he always knows the exact thing to say.'_

"Thanks, man. Really. You. . . you rock," he laughed.

"Yeah, I do, don't I?" Collins replied, standing up. He left Benny and went back into the kitchen with Noah. 

"Maybe you should call her," Noah proposed.

"Yeah, maybe." Benny sat still for a few minutes as Collins and Noah cooked something up for supper. He stood up and sighed, looking around the room for the telephone. His eyes finally caught the pile of wood in the middle of the floor.

"What happened to the coffee table?" he asked.

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Review?? =)


	15. Chapter 15

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Chapter 15

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A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! You all rock. And don't worry, there will be definite Mimi-age in the future, just hold your horses! Enjoy this chapter.

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"Sweetie, are you sure you're eating enough? You were so skinny the last time I saw you!"

"Yes, mom, I'm fine! I swear I'm eating," Mark tried to convince his mother. She had called five minutes earlier and had been scolding him about eating since then.

"Don't swear. Your grandfather wouldn't be very pleased."

"No, ma, I didn't mean I swear, I meant I _swear_… like, I promise."

"You'd better promise, young man. I'm sure grandpa's looking down from heaven, shaking his head at you right now."

Oh Lord. "Alright, mom," Mark laughed. "So, what's new? Why'd you call?"

"Can't I call my baby son to see how he's doing? And ask him to come to his big sister's birthday party this weekend?"

"Cindy's 25. I think she's out-grown the whole 'birthday party' thing."

"Don't talk like that! You can never outgrow birthday parties!" Mrs. Cohen replied seriously. _"Besides, would it kill you to see your niece and nephew? They're forgetting what you look like."_

"They're two. They don't even know who you and dad are."

"They do too. Please come, Mark. We all miss you," she persuaded him. _"You can even bring that girl with you. Michelle? Who's that girl you're seeing—"_

"Maureen." 

"Her, too. We'll even pay for the rental car. I'll make up some nice meals that you can take home with you, because I'm sure your roommates aren't eating anything, either."

Mark sighed loudly. "Sure, I'll come."

Mark heard his mother clap her hands together. _"Oh, good! Mark! I knew you'd come. Your father wants to see you, too."_ Murmurs were heard from her end of the phone, and Mark knew that it was probably his father complaining that she shouldn't have told him that. 

"Tell dad I say hi," he laughed.

"He says hi back, sweetie. Oh, and Mark, do you remember your great uncle Abraham?"

"Nope."

"Yes you do. He's passed, honey. I'm sorry."

"I have a great uncle Abraham?"

"Yes, Mark. On your father's side. About two weeks ago. It's horrible, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I guess," Mark replied distractedly. 

"Pretend you're sad," she whispered. _"For your father's sake."_

"Aw, shucks. Seriously? Uncle Abe?" Mark spoke sarcastically.

"I know, it's too bad, it really is. Well, he left you some money in his will."

Mark immediately perked up. "Money?"

"Yes. He left you and Cindy a thousand dollars to split between you."

"Sweet! Really?"

"Yes. Don't sound so excited. The man died, Mark. If you can't feel sad about that, feel sorry that I had to go to the funeral. It was long," she laughed quietly. 

"Okay, okay. Sorry. I'd better go, but I'll see you tomorrow, then."

"I'm so glad you're coming home. You'll stay the weekend, won't you?"

Mark shrugged, even though he knew his mother couldn't see that. There was no use fighting with her, she'd get her way in the end.

"Sure. I'll ask Maureen to come, too."

"Okay. I can't wait to meet the girl my son's been shtupping."

"Mom!" Mark scolded his mother, surprised, as she laughed.

"I love you, honey. I'll see you soon."

"Yeah, love you too, mom."

Mark hung up the phone and tossed it onto the chair in the living room. He smiled at the thought of the money he had just come into, but wished he could feel bad for his great uncle. He stood up and wandered into his bedroom, picked up his camera, and lay down on the bed on his back. He flipped it on and watched the footage go by. He heard somebody come into the loft, and almost immediately, Maureen appeared in the doorway. Mark looked up and smiled, putting his camera aside for now. He moved over and made space for Maureen next to him on the bed.

"Missed you," he smiled.

Maureen smiled back and responded. "How are you?" she asked, laying down next to him.

"I'm good," he drawled. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and she habitually rested her head on his shoulder. "I wanna ask you something."

"Shoot."

"Come with me to Scarsdale this weekend? It's my sister's birthday. It'll be fun. . . we'll get free food, cake, you can meet my family. . . my horribly over-protective mother. . ." 

Maureen laughed and shut her eyes. "I dunno, Pookie."

"Why not?" Mark asked, poking her in the side. "You know you want to!"

Maureen laughed and pushed his hand away. She hated being so ticklish. "It's not that I don't want to, I just don't know if I should. I mean, rehearsals and everything."

"On Saturday?" Mark asked, skeptical.

"Yeah. We're starting our blocking, so I can't miss it," she replied. Mark shut his eyes, too, and rested his head on Maureen's.

"You sure?" he asked. "My mom wants to meet the girl I'm shtupping. She'll love you."

Maureen laughed a bit and snuggled in closer to Mark. "I can't miss rehearsals. Next time, okay? Maybe we can go see them next Friday. I think I'm good then."

"Sure. Tired?"

"Yeah. I just stood around all day, too," she laughed. "I never realized how tiring being bossed around was."

"Now you know why I love to sleep so much!"

"Hey!" Maureen playfully slapped Mark in the shoulder and shut her eyes again. "Go to sleep."

"Yes, ma'am." Mark shut his eyes, too, and hugged Maureen tighter. He could use a nap.

Maureen felt Mark's arms around her tighten and she realized how much he loved her. He wanted her to meet his family. He got so worried when he didn't know where she was. But if Mark was away in Scarsdale this weekend, she could go to dinner with Joanne and he would never know.

'I could just kill myself for thinking that. Mark doesn't deserve this! He deserves a girlfriend who is loyal and good to him, and I could be that. . . after one more dinner with Joanne, just to break it off."

She felt Mark's chest rising and falling slowly and she knew that he was asleep. She held onto his hands which were carefully placed around her waist and tried to fall asleep.

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Mark groaned and opened his eyes. There was no light streaming in from the windows, so he figured he must have slept for longer than he thought. He turned over and buried his face in the pillow, peeking at the clock on the wooden crate placed on its side next to his bed through the corner of his eye. 9:45. He sighed and turned over again. Maureen wasn't there, but he heard sounds of the TV in the next room so figured she had got up earlier than him. He pushed himself up into a sitting position and crawled out of the bed, still groggy. He stumbled out of the bedroom, flipping the overhead light on as he left.

As he entered the dark living room, he realized that it wasn't Maureen watching television, but Benny. He turned around from his seat on the couch when he heard Mark's door creak open.

"Morning, sunshine," he greeted, turning back to the television. He continued to flip channels to find something that wasn't grey and fuzzy. 

"Hey," Mark replied, plopping down on the chair. "Where'd Mo go?"

"Oh, she left, like, an hour ago. She told me to tell you that she'd be home later but she didn't tell me where." 

Fuck. "Oh."

The two men sat in silence watching Cheers and occasionally laughing along.

"I hate my fucking life," Mark whined, rubbing his face with his hands.

"What? Why?" Benny laughed, glancing over to his friend.

"Where the hell is Maureen? She's doing that thing again where she just up and leaves without saying anything. And what the fuck is Roger's problem?"

"Mimi's mad at me. I called her and she yelled a lot."

Mark snorted.

Benny started to laugh. "We're so fucked over."

"Yeah, we are," Mark replied, laughing now, too. "And to top it all off, I'm going to Scarsdale this weekend."

"Ouch. Good luck with that one."

Mark groaned. "I want to crawl into a hole and die."

"Awe," Benny sympathized. "Want to go get a drink?"

"Or twelve. . ."

"Or twelve?"

"Yeah."

The two put on their shoes and coats and left to get very drunk.

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Review! =)


	16. Chapter 16

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Chapter 16

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A/N: Here's a fun chapter. You may or may not notice my small tribute to Jason Robert Brown's _The Last Five Years_ in it. Anywho, enjoy and please review!

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Mark turned into the short paved driveway and parked behind the old station wagon that the family affectionately referred to as "The Toilet". He took the keys out of the ignition and opened the car door. He was surprised that he remembered how to drive a stick shift after so many years of not driving. It hadn't taken too long to get to Scarsdale since the traffic was light, but Mark still wished he had Maureen there with him to keep him company. He went to the back of the car and popped the trunk open. He pulled out his duffel bag and laughed as he saw his mother hurrying out the front door to her son. She was wiping her hands on her apron and opened her arms, embracing Mark in a tight hug.

"Mark!" she squealed. "My son! I've missed you!"

Mark pulled out of his mother's grasp long enough to slam the trunk shut, then was immediately hugged again.

"Ma, I can't breathe!" She pulled back, sniffing away her tears.

"Sorry, sweetie, I just… I can't believe you're here!" She linked their arms together and led Mark into the house. "Where's Melissa?"

"Maureen. She couldn't come. She had rehearsals for a play she's in."

"Oh, that's so exciting!" She shut the heavy wooden door behind them and took Mark's coat from him. "Your father's in the other room. Go say hello," she said quietly, nudging him in the ribs towards the living room.

Mark gently dropped his bag on the floor by his boots and peeked into the living room, creeping in carefully. In the corner of the room was a man sitting in an easy chair, reading the newspaper.

"Hey, dad."

The man looked up from behind his paper and smiled warmly.

"Mark," he said as he stood up, folding up his paper and dropping it on the seat. "How are you?"

Mark opened his arms and hugged the older man. He noticed that his father actually had tears in his eyes. He stifled a laugh and replied.

"I'm good, I'm good. How about you? It's been a while…"

"Yes, it has. I'm doing fine."

"Mark! Why don't you come here and help me with dinner!" Mrs. Cohen called from the kitchen. It wasn't really a question so much as it was a high-pitched, perky demand.

"You should go to her. She's been talking non-stop about you ever since she got off the phone yesterday," Mark's father laughed, sitting back down in his Lazy Boy.

"Mark?"

Mark threw a glance over his shoulder. "Yup?"

"It's good to have you home."

Mark smiled and walked through the foyer and to the kitchen. His mother was currently slaving over a hot stove. He didn't know people actually _did_ that. She had oven mitts covering her hands and was pulling a large pot roast out of the oven. She looked up when she heard Mark come into the room and rested the food on top of the stove.

"Sweetheart," she hugged him again and kissed his cheek. "You're really here."

"Yeah, I am," Mark laughed. "I'm here. Can I help you out?"

Mrs. Cohen smiled again and handed her son a stack of seven plates. 

"You can set the table for me. The dining room table. The glasses and silverware are out there, but you'll need to look for the kids' sippie cups."

"Sure thing, pretty lady," Mark smiled, kissing his mother on the forehead. She was a very small woman, so Mark had to bend down quite a bit to do this. She giggled and turned to a large pot soup on one of the burners.

Mark entered the dining room and placed the plates on the table. He set everything out, and even managed to find the sippie cups his mom was referring to without much trouble. He wandered over to the very full bookshelf, and studied the pictures in front. There were mostly photographs of him and his sister, Cindy, growing up. He and his sister used to be very close, but when he moved to New York they drifted apart. He had vivid memories of covering for her when she would sneak out of the house and crawl in his bedroom window in the early hours of the morning, or her helping him deal with his first hangover and trying to hide it from their parents. He laughed quietly and heard small knocking coming from outside. 

Mark made his way over to the front door and opened it, seeing a toddler standing at the door, sucking her thumb. Her very light blonde hair was pulled into two pigtails on the sides of her head and she was wearing a pink dress and a tiny white pea coat. She pulled her thumb out of her mouth and her lower lip began to tremble as she started to cry loudly.

"Catherine," Mark said soothingly. He bent down to her level and smiled. "Cathy, it's me, Uncle Mark," he smiled, holding out his hand for her. The toddler ran back to the red mini van and pulled on a man's pant leg. The man picked her up and hugged her, kissing her forehead. He looked over at the doorway where Mark was still standing awkwardly. The man elbowed the woman who was currently struggling with another toddler, and she looked up. 

"Mark!" she cried, grinning. She picked up the screaming and kicking child and cradled him in her arms. "Shh."

The woman quickly walked over to Mark, beaming. Her wavy dirty blonde hair flowed down her back, and she tried to untangle the young boy's hands from it.

"Jamie, stop," she complained as if the child could understand what she was saying. "Mark, I can't believe it's you!" she smiled, gratefully receiving the hug that Mark offered.

"I've been getting that a lot today," he grinned. "Happy birthday, you old hag." Cindy handed the baby to Mark, and he immediately settled against his shoulder, cooing.

"The men always had a thing for you," Cindy laughed, resting a hand on Mark's arm. "I'm so glad you're here!" she exclaimed as the two walked into the hallway.

The man standing by the van was now walking up the pathway, a baby bag slung over his shoulder, holding on to Catherine's hand. She clutched his pant leg with her free hand and looked at the door nervously. Mark smiled weakly, holding the door open for the two.

"Michael," he greeted the shorter man.

"Hey, Mark. Long time no see," he smiled, guiding the young girl into the house.

"Is that my favourite daughter I hear?" Mr. Cohen appeared in the doorway to the living room and hugged Cindy.

"Hey," she greeted, kissing him on the cheek, then continuing to take a now very calm Jamie from Mark's arms. "You feeling better, dad?" she asked, walking into the kitchen.

"I am," he called to her, carefully bending down and scooping Catherine up off the floor. "How's my little princess?" he asked, kissing her nose. 

"Gampa!" she giggled, pulling his thin wire glasses off of his face and patting his cheek with her pudgy hand. Mark laughed and took her and Michael's coats, hanging them up in the closet.

"Dinner's ready!" Mrs. Cohen called from the kitchen.

"Shall we?" Mr. Cohen asked.

"No!" Catherine screamed, burying her face in her grandfather's shoulder.

"Yes," Michael laughed, patting her back. The three men sat down at the table and watched as Cindy wrestled with the once again crying Jamie, trying to get him into his seat.

"A little help, Mark? He seems to calm down for you," Cindy pleaded with him, pulling him up from his seat.

"Sure," he sighed, taking Jamie from her arms. Cindy disappeared into the kitchen and Mark got Jamie into his seat with ease. "I'm very agreeable," he laughed, plopping down next to the toddler who was currently hitting the top of his high chair, laughing.

Mrs. Cohen reappeared soon with Cindy, and they filled the others' bowls with soup and sat down. They all ate rather quickly and found themselves eating dessert before long. Mr. Cohen presented Cindy with a chocolate cake as the group sang "Happy Birthday" to her, and she blushed and buried her face in her hands. 

"Mark, mom told me you're dating someone!" Cindy squealed as she tried to feed Cathy her cake without making too much of a mess.

"Yeah, I am," he laughed. "Maureen. She wanted to come this weekend, but she couldn't. Oh— by the way, she said she wants to come up and meet you guys this Friday. Is that okay?" Mark asked, looking to his parents for approval.

"I think that should be okay," Mrs. Cohen replied, nodding.

"That's fine," his father agreed.

"Is she Jewish?" Mrs. Cohen asked. Her husband's head snapped up and the other's began to laugh.

"Josie, did you really need to ask that?" Mr. Cohen laughed, stirring sugar into his coffee.

"You were curious, too!" she replied, trying to justify her question. The four others laughed for the next moment until she spoke up again. "Well? Is she?"

"No, mom," Mark laughed, pushing his empty plate away. "She's not."

"Well why not?" she exclaimed. "Don't you want to marry a nice Jewish girl and settle down soon?"

The four continued laughing, harder now, and the two toddlers laughed, too, not wanting to be left out.

"I like Maureen, I think I'll stick with her," he said, recovering.

"Come on, mom, let the kid date who he wants," Cindy tried to help.

"But you married a nice Jewish boy, and look where you are now! You've got a wonderful life and two beautiful babies!"

"She has a point," Michael laughed. "But if I wasn't Jewish, things'd probably be the same," he rationalized.

"Maybe. But Marky, remember Lisa Katz from down the street? I ran into her mother yesterday, and she's not seeing anybody either. She's a kindergarten teacher now, you know that? Just think about how nice those two would be together!"

"Mom…" Mark whined. "No. I'm with Maureen. You'll like her, I know you will."

"We'll see," Josephine replied, rolling her eyes.

"Out!" Jamie yelled, slapping at the plastic plate on his highchair. Michael stood up to take him out of his highchair, but when he did, Jamie screamed again.

"No!" He pointed at Mark and reached his arms up in the air.

"I got him," Mark laughed, standing up and placing his napkin next to his plate. He picked Jamie up and set him comfortably on his lap. Mrs. Cohen stood up and started collecting the now empty plates, and Michael stood up to help her.

"Thank you, sweetie."

"No problem."

"Marky, tell me more about this Maureen girl. Is she pretty?" Cindy prodded, lifting a yawning Cathy out of her highchair and cradling her in her arms.

"Yes, I hear from your mother that this is the girl you're…shtupping?"

"God…" Mark rolled his eyes and laughed. Jamie was contentedly clutching Mark's thumb and holding onto his foot. "She's very pretty. We've been dating a while now, actually. Almost a year."

"And you never told me?!" Cindy asked, surprised. "Where is your head, young man?"

Josephine poked her head out of the kitchen. "Cindy, did you bring back that Tupperware container from last time you were here? I want to send home some soup with you."

"Yeah, it's in the car. I'll go get it," she replied as she stood up, resting Cathy on her hip. "Come with me, Mark?"

"Sure," he agreed, standing up, too. Jamie took his hand and ran ahead into the foyer.

"Be back in a sec, dad," Cindy laughed, kissing her father on the cheek. He was currently flipping through the phone book, searching for Lisa Katz as ordered by his wife.

Mark helped Jamie put on his shoes and opened the door.

"Don't let him go in the snow," Cindy called after him. "He'll get sick."

"I know…" Mark said, chasing after his nephew. He picked him up and put him up on his shoulders.

"God, Mark! Be careful! He's only two, he can barely sit on his own! You're gonna give me heart attack," Cindy chided him, laughing. Cathy was comfortably set against her shoulder, dozing. She unlocked the middle door of her van and searched through it for the Tupperware.

"So how've you been, Mark? Really? Not the 'Mom-and-Dad-I'm-fine' stuff'."

"I'm doing okay. Frustrated, I guess. Remember Roger? I dunno if you met him, I'm pretty sure you did."

"Yeah, I think so—Here, hold her for me?" she asked, passing Cathy over to her brother. Mark took Jamie off his shoulders and held him with one arm, taking Cathy with the other.

"Well," Mark sighed. "He got married to this girl, April, and they're really…into drugs and stuff. So she's off in rehab and he's God knows where."

"Wow," Cindy replied weakly, pulling out a plastic grocery bag that held what she was looking for. "Really?" She shut the door behind her and leaned against the side of the van, taking Jamie from Mark. "Hey baby," she cooed at him as he giggled. Mark leaned against the van, too.

"Yeah, he's been gone for a while. But he's been a real big ass lately. He tried to get Maureen in bed when I was asleep in the other room." Mark shook his head and rocked a sleeping Cathy. It felt good to get everything off his chest to a biased party. Maybe now he'd get someone would realize his problem and not respond with 'Well, you know Roger.'

"God, really? Why are you friends with him?"

"I dunno. I'm not, I guess. He's just… some guy who lives with us. It's weird," Mark shrugged. "But anyway, enough about me. How about you? It's been too long…"

"Yeah, it has, assface," Cindy joked, nudging Mark with her shoulder. "I've missed you, eh? You never call."

"Yeah, well…"

"I know. Don't worry about it. I think mom does, though."

"She would," Mark laughed. "But she calls me often enough, so she shouldn't complain."

"That's our mother," Cindy smiled. "They miss you. They always talk about you when I see them."

"Really?" Mark asked, surprised.

"Yeah. I think they're really proud of you, moving out on your own and everything."

Mark shrugged. "Could have fooled me…" he mumbled.

"I'm pregnant," Cindy stated casually, not hearing Mark's comment.

"What?!" Now it was Mark's turn to squeal. Jamie laughed at this and returned to playing with his mother's hair.

"I'm pregnant!" she beamed.

"Wow! You're a machine."

"Mark!" she laughed. "Shut up."

"Have you told Mom and Dad yet?"

"No. I was going to do it today, since you're here, too. But I dunno if I can."

"Do it!" Mark prodded. "Do it! You'll have to do it eventually, and I don't want to miss the look on their faces!"

Cindy shrugged and turned, walking towards the door grinning. "We'll see."

"What do you mean 'we'll see'?!" Mark laughed, walking behind her.

"Be quiet. Don't mention it to them or I'll kick your ass," she whispered, covering Jamie's ears.

The two siblings slipped out of their shoes and entered into the living room where Mr. and Mrs. Cohen, and Michael were sitting, talking. Cindy set Jamie down on the ground and dug through the baby bag she had left near the door to find something for him to play with. 

"Maybe I'll just go put her down so she can sleep," Mark suggested, motioning towards Cathy.

"Yeah. Thanks so much," Cindy replied. 

Mark wandered up the stairs quietly and turned into the hallway. He walked two doors down and peeked into his old bedroom. He gently pushed open the door and looked inside. Everything was still exactly the same, but his duffel bag was placed beside his dresser. His dark blue and white striped comforter was still neatly made. His Star Trek action figures (not 'Man Barbies' as Cindy always referred to them) were still lined up along the top bookshelf. He examined it more closely, and found binders from his high school classes, books from his first year at Brown University, old yearbooks. He carefully rested Cathy on his bed and draped the fleece blanket that was folded up at the foot of his bed over her. He watched her shift positions so her thumb was carefully lodged into her mouth and her other hand was clutching the edge of the blanket. Mark smiled and searched through his bag for his camera then left his room, jogging down the stairs. He turned into the living room.

"Hey," he greeted. "She's in my room."

"Aw, the poor thing. All tuckered out!" Josephine laughed, seated on a chair by the idle fireplace.

"From a day of playing and eating," Michael agreed, putting an arm around Cindy's shoulders. The two were seated on the love seat in front of the bay window facing out onto the street. Mark took a seat on a free chair behind Jamie who was contentedly playing with wooden building blocks on the floor. 

"That yours?" Michael asked, gesturing towards the camera Mark held in his hands. He wanted to get some shots of everybody tonight.

"Yep," Mark replied.

"Can I see it?" Cindy asked. Mark nodded and handed her the camera. "How do I watch the stuff in the thing?"

Mark laughed and turned it on and played the tape inside for her, then sat back down.

"Is this your girlfriend?" she asked, looking up at Mark.

"Brown hair?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah, it is."

"She's hot!" Michael exclaimed before being slapped in the chest by Cindy. Jamie laughed loudly and repeated him.

"She's hot!"

"She's _cute_," Cindy laughed. "Stop corrupting my baby." She stood up and took the camera over to her father and mother, and they watched over her shoulder.

"She sure is a looker," Mr. Cohen laughed.

"Jacob!" Mrs. Cohen scolded him. "I suppose she's pretty."

"You're just mad because she isn't Jewish," Mr. Cohen laughed. Cindy shook her head and sat back down on the loveseat, still watching footage. Jamie slowly toddled over to Mark and crawled up onto his lap.

"He's adorable," Mark spoke, looking up at Michael and Cindy.

"Yeah, he is."

"I'm just so sad I missed watching him grow up. I mean, I missed both of them as little babies, then when they first learned to walk, and to talk…I just wish I could have seen it," he sad innocently.

Cindy shot Mark a look and he grinned mischievously.

"Do you two think you would want to have anymore children?" Mr. Cohen asked.

"Uh, we, yeah, I guess so…" Cindy stuttered, shutting the camera off. 

"Actually," Michael said, looking over at Cindy who looked down at her feet. "We've been thinking…"

Cindy looked back up at her husband and he shrugged.

"Um, well…I _am_ pregnant again," she smiled weakly.

Josephine jumped up from her seat and rushed over to her daughter, embracing her in her arms.

"Oh, really?" she asked, hugging and kissing Michael on the cheeks. Cindy nodded, laughing.

"Congratulations," Mr. Cohen spoke up, carefully getting out of his chair. Mark did the same, and the three congregated around the two parents-to-be-again.

"How far along are you?" Josephine asked, smiling.

"About a month and a half, but it feels like longer!" Cindy laughed as the men congratulated Michael. Everybody eventually got settled once again, and Mark filmed everybody talking and Jamie playing. A scream followed by a cry was heard from upstairs, and Michael hurried up the stairs returning with a content Cathy, drinking from her bottle. He put her on the floor and gave a bottle to Jamie, too, and the kids continued playing, taking toys out of their bag whenever they felt the urge.

Soon after, Cindy, Michael, and the twins left. They were both asleep when they were put into their coats and car seats. Mark was then left alone with his parents. They remained in the living room for longer, talking and catching up. Mark told them more about Maureen and his other roommates, but his parents were especially interested in how Collins was doing, as his family was good friends of theirs. 

Mark eventually got to bed after telling his mother that he really wasn't hungry and was force-fed cake and milk. She then made sure that Mark brushed his teeth and flossed, and soon after he fell asleep in his old bedroom.

-----------------

Maureen smiled at Joanne and sat down across from her at the small table. She had just reached the restaurant after leaving the loft with much questions from Benny and Collins. She managed to dodge them while they were engrossed in eating and marking, and slipped out relatively unnoticed.

"Hey," Joanne smiled back. "How are you?"

"I'm alright. You haven't been waiting long, have you?" Maureen asked, frowning.

"Oh, no, I got here just before you did," Joanne reassured her.

"Good," Maureen took a sip of the glass of water in front of her place and zipped her sweater up.

"Cold?"

"I guess."

"You said on the phone you had something to tell me?"

Maureen remembered saying that to Joanne earlier in the afternoon. She had called her after Mark left and promised herself that she would break it off with her tonight. But when she saw Joanne sitting in front of her, she felt horrible and couldn't do it. Whenever she was with her, she wanted to stay with her, but then when she went home to Mark, so sure of herself and her need to break it off with him, she couldn't. She found herself wanting to stay wrapped up in his arms, huddled under the blankets in the shit hole they called a home.

"Honeybear?" 

"What? Yeah, I… can't remember!" she giggled. "Sorry."

"That's okay," Joanne laughed.

Both women flipped open their menus and continued to make small talk until their waiter appeared at the end of the table. He smiled and introduced himself as Craig. He took their orders and came back with them quickly, even though it was a rather busy night in the restaurant. 

"So your show's going well?" Joanne asked, starting in on her spaghetti.

"Yeah, it's a lot of fun. We're getting our costumes fitted next week. I get to wear this cool dress and everything," Maureen laughed. "You have to come and see me!" She picked up her fork and started to eat her salad.

Joanne nodded and took a sip of her wine.

"Maureen?"

"Yeah?" she replied, looking up from her plate.

"Where's… Mark tonight?"

"Oh, he's off in Scarsdale." She looked back down at her plate and pushed the lettuce around with her fork. "Visiting his family."

"That's nice…" 

The two women turned back to their dinners and finished them up in silence, stopping to say something every once in a while. Craig came back to take their plates, served them coffee and gave them their cheque.

"You okay, Jo?" Maureen asked, gently bumping her foot against Joanne's under the table.

"Yeah, I just…" she trailed off.

"You just what?" Maureen gave a small smile and took a sip of her coffee. Joanne sighed and played with the handle of her coffee cup.

"When are you going to break up with Mark?"

The dreaded question. Maureen didn't know how to answer that. She couldn't say that she didn't think she wanted to, but she also couldn't say 'soon', because she knew that she wouldn't.

"I dunno, Pookie. It's hard. He's just so… innocent and nice, and I feel horrible for doing this to him."

"You feel horrible about being with me," Joanne stated.

"No!" Maureen almost shouted. "No, it's not like that," she said, quieter this time.

"Then what _is_ it like?" Joanne asked firmly. Maureen could tell that she was sick of hiding the relationship and angry about not being able to spend any time together.

"I don't… I don't know…" Maureen lowered her eyes and stirred her coffee to preoccupy herself.

"I'm tired of all of this, Maureen. I just want to be with you, but I can't do that when you're still with your boyfriend. It's not fair to either of us, and you know it." Maureen opened her mouth to say something, but Joanne held up her hand and continued to talk. There was the lawyer in her. 

"Either you want to be with me, or you don't. You need to break up with Mark or break up with me."

"Is that an ultimatum?" Maureen asked meekly.

"I suppose it is."

"Joanne, don't do this, You know I want to be with you—"

"Then why aren't you? You sneak over to see me, then you go home back to your boyfriend. That's not how a relationship works."

"I know… I'll end it, I will. I just need some time, alright? I can't just walk up to him and say that I'm leaving him for another woman."

"I know," Joanne replied, looking down into her coffee. "Sorry."

"Don't be, it's not your fault," Maureen shrugged. "Shall we?" 

"Yeah, let's go." Joanne pulled out her wallet and left money for the meal. The two women stood up and put on their coats. They wandered out of the restaurant and out onto the street to Joanne's car. They both silently got in and Maureen sunk into the leather seats. Now she had a royal mess on her hands.

"Want me to take you back to the loft?" Joanne asked, slipping into her gloves.

Maureen kept her eyes glued to the cars whizzing by outside the window and shook her head slowly, turning back to Joanne.

"Let's go back to your place."

-----------------

Dun-dun-duuuuuunnnnnnnn!!!! Review, please?


	17. Chapter 17

****

Chapter 17

Mark awoke to the sounds and smells of breakfast streaming in his room from downstairs. He rolled over and fell onto the ground. Damn the small bed. He stood up drowsily and picked up his glasses from his bedside table, knocking the small lamp over in the process. He carefully shoved his glasses on his face and pushed open the door, stumbling out and yawning. He wandered down the stairs down into the kitchen and saw his mother stacking plastic containers full of food on top of each other.

"Hey mom."

"Good morning, sweetheart," she smiled, kissing him on the forehead. "How did you sleep?"

Mark plopped down on a chair in front of the kitchen table. 

"Fine," he sighed. "Really well, actually. What time is it?"

"Almost one," Mrs. Cohen laughed.

One. Mark hadn't slept that late in what seemed like a very long time. Since all the trouble with Maureen and Roger had started. At the loft he had been having serious trouble sleeping well, but when he escaped to drug and girlfriend-free Scarsdale, he slept like a baby.

Mrs. Cohen placed a plate of food in front of Mark and patted his head.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome. I packed up some food that you can take home with you, honey. I don't want you to disappear." She motioned towards the Tupperware containers. She put a large glass of orange juice by Mark's plate and sat down across from him with her own coffee.

"Thanks, mom," he spoke through a mouthful of food.

"Swallow first, Mark. Do you think you'll stay the day with us?"

Mark swallowed and thought for a moment. "Sure. But not too late, I want to get home to Maureen."

Mrs. Cohen stiffened at the mention of Maureen and forced a smile. "All right."

"Mom, don't be like that. So she's not Jewish, it's not the end of the world!" he laughed.

"I know, but listen: I put Lisa Katz's phone number on your dresser. Maybe you can call her and get together with her for coffee one day! Wouldn't that be nice?"

"No…" he whined. "I don't want to go out for coffee with Lisa Katz. I haven't talked to her since, like, the ninth grade."

"Well, you do as you choose. Just remember though, if you keep dating Maureen, you're out of the will," she grinned.

"Sure, mom," Mark smiled. He took a gulp of his orange juice and pushed his empty plate away. "That was good."

"Of course it was. I made it."

"Where'd dad go?"

"For a walk. You know, to help his knee. Could you look out the window at all the snow? He's the most stubborn man ever. Leave it to him to go for a walk in a snowstorm."

Mark peered out the window behind his mother and noticed that unlike yesterday, he could no longer see the blue tarp cover of the swimming pool under all the snow.

"Holy shit!"

"Mark!" she scolded.

"Sorry," he laughed. His mother rolled her eyes and smiled.

"Why don't you go get dressed and shovel the walk for me?" Mrs. Cohen suggested, standing up and taking her son's plate.

"Okay," he replied. It figures that the only reason she wants him to stay is to shovel the walkway. "I'm just gonna call the loft, check in and make sure it hasn't exploded or anything." 

Mrs. Cohen nodded, and placed his dished in the dishwasher. Mark walked into the living room and picked up the phone. He dialled the loft and waited for somebody to answer, but got the answering machine instead. He wasn't too surprised, and figured Maureen was still sleeping, Collins was out with Noah, Benny was chasing down Mimi, and Roger was passed out in an alley or something.

"Guys… it's me, Mark, your roommate. Uh, just calling to see if everything was still good. I'll be home later and my mom made lots of food for us, so, yeah. Right, anyway, see you later."

Mark hated leaving voicemails. He didn't like the sound of his voice when it was recorded. He stood up and walked into the hall, peeking into the kitchen. His mother was still cooking. He shook his head and jogged up the stairs to his bedroom. He quickly got changed into a pair of blue jeans and a sweater, and rubbed his hands together, trying to make them warmer. When he came back down the stairs, he saw his father entering the house with another older man.

"Hey dad," he greeted, smiling.

"Afternoon, Mark. You remember Chuck Kaplan, don't you?"

"Sure do." No he didn't. "How are you?" he asked, shaking Chuck's hand.

"Fine, thanks, and you? I hear you're in New York, now."

"I am," Mark laughed, slipping to his shoes as the other men slipped out of theirs. "It's pretty good. I've got myself a pretty nice place," he lied. No need to worry anybody. Heaven knows that if he said he lived in a shit hole his mother would make him move back in with them.

"Are you leaving?"

"No, just shovelling the walk."

"I wish my sons would come by and shovel for me," Chuck laughed, patting Mark on the back. "I'm going to go say hi to Josie."

"Your mother told you about the money Uncle Abraham left you and Cindy, did she?" Jacob asked, sitting down in the living room. Mark stood in the doorway and nodded.

"I forgot about it yesterday, but I've got the cheque for you."

"Awesome. Not about the death, but about the money. Not that I'm not sad about it, because I am. It just worked out in my favour. Financially."

"Mark," his father laughed. "Go shovel the walk."

"Okay," Mark replied. Chuck came into the room and sat down in a chair near Jacob's, and Mrs. Cohen wasn't too far behind with a tray of coffee and snacks.

"I'll be back in a bit," Mark laughed. He put his coat on and found a pair of gloves in the chest near the door. He picked up the shovel that was leaning against the wall and stepped outside, bracing himself for the cold.

-----------------

Maureen yawned and blinked several times. Joanne slid her a mug of tea across the counter and Maureen picked it up, sitting at the kitchen table.

"Thanks."

"Welcome," Joanne smiled, sitting across from her at the table. Maureen lifted her foot into her lap and rubbed her ankle. She had hurt it the other day from kicking the brick wall.

"You all right?" Joanne asked.

"Yeah. I just twisted my ankle before," she grimaced, blowing on her coffee to cool it down. She glanced over at the microwave and noticed the clock glowing '1:30'. She gave a small shiver and held her hands around the hot mug. She should call Mark. He had said that he would be home at about noon, so he was probably wondering where she was. She didn't know what to tell him this time about not being home again. She pushed those thoughts from her mind for the time being and focused on being with Joanne.

"Thanks for dinner last night, Pookie," Maureen smiled. "It was nice."

"It was. I'm glad you called."

"So am I."

"I just wish we could do it more often," Joanne mumbled under her breath. Maureen heard that even though she knew it wasn't meant for her ears. She ignored it, pretending she didn't, and poured a spoonful of sugar into her cup, stirring it to make sure it was evenly spread throughout the drink.

"So, what are you going to do on your big day off?" Maureen asked, lifting her mug to her lips.

"I've got a lot of work to do, actually," she replied sullenly. "I don't get days off."

Maureen sensed the resentment in her voice and looked down, rubbing her ankle again as she winced. If it wasn't for any of this she wouldn't be in so much pain right now. If she just disappeared off the face of the earth, nobody would be in such a predicament, herself included. If she died, only two people would my mildly unhappy. Her parents wouldn't care. Her mother was a deadbeat and she hadn't seen her father in over fifteen years. For all she knew they could be living in Alaska and France.

"Can I use your phone?" Maureen asked carefully, not wanting to set Joanne off on a tirade.

"Sure," she replied, deadpan.

Maureen stood up quietly and tiptoed over to the phone on the wall. She picked it up and turned the corner into the hallway, the cord stretching a bit. She dialled slowly, thinking of an excuse for Mark. Maureen held the phone up to her ear and heard the familiar greet of the answering machine.

"Mark, I know you're there." She spoke quietly. "Stop screening and pick up the phone. Please? Mark? Sorry I wasn't there to welcome you home," she laughed nervously. "I had a last-minute rehearsal and I couldn't get out of it. I'll be back soon, though. Don't be mad, okay?" 

She stepped back into the kitchen, hanging up the phone. Joanne had yesterday's newspaper in one hand and her mug in the other.

"You should go home to Mark," she said coldly. Great. Now Joanne was mad at her, too.

"Pookie…" she started, laying a hand on her shoulder. Joanne placed her paper down on the table and turned to Maureen.

"I have a lot of things to do today. I need all the time I can get."

"Oh, sure, yeah. Understandable. I'll just…" she trailed off. She walked quickly into Joanne's bedroom and picked up her black cardigan, throwing it on over her white tank top. She exited the room, making a beeline for the closet in the hallway. She pulled out her red wool coat and put it on, sliding into her shoes quickly. She made sure she had everything in her coat pockets and poked her head into the kitchen.

"I'm just gonna go, then. Good luck with all your stuff."

"Bye," Joanne replied stiffly. 

Maureen opened the door quietly and stepped out into the hallway, slamming it loudly behind her. If that didn't get her attention then nothing would. Joanne was being such a bitch and she didn't even have a reason. Maureen pushed the call button for the elevator several times impatiently and hurried on as it opened for her. 

"Fuck," she whined loudly, reaching over to press the 'ground floor' button. She noticed that it was lit up and looked up slowly to see an attractive man looking at her, stifling a laugh.

"Oh, God," Maureen rolled her eyes and laughed. "Sorry."

"It's fine," he replied, finally laughing. "How are you?" he asked casually.

"I'm good," she said coyly. 

__

'Stop it, Maureen…'

"I'm Max," he introduced himself, sticking his hand out for Maureen. She shook his hand and leaned on the wall of the elevator.

"Maureen." She twirled a piece of hair around her finger and leaned in closer to Max.

__

'What the hell am I doing?!' Maureen inwardly scolded herself. She wanted to stop flirting with him, but she couldn't help it. There was no impetus for it anymore.

"You're beautiful, Maureen," Max said stupidly.

"Thanks," she replied, giggling. She felt a burst of relief when the steel doors opened to reveal the lobby. She stepped off, Max behind her.

"It was nice to meet you," he smiled, jingling the car keys in his hand.

"Likewise." Maureen flirtatiously ran a finger down his arm. He winked at her as he turned into a door marked 'Parking Garage.'

Maureen walked out of the apartment building quickly. Max had disappeared into the parking garage, so she didn't have to worry about inadvertently flirting with him anymore. She walked briskly down the street, doing everything she could to stop herself from running into oncoming traffic.

-----------------

Benny laughed to himself as he heard Maureen leave her message on the answering machine. What a loser. Mark wasn't even home yet.

He had been alone in the loft since about eleven. Collins and Noah had gone out and Maureen didn't come home the night before. So he was hanging out, watching some blurry television and being a couch potato. He laughed at Balki on old reruns of _Perfect Strangers_ and heard a knock at the door. He stood up and leaned over to pull it open. Mimi.

Mimi's small frame stood at the door, her big coat hanging off of her. Her long curly hair hung down around her and she shuffled her feet. Her hands were in her pockets and there was a nervous smile poised on her face.

"Hi."

"Hey," Benny said quietly, looking down at his feet. "What are you doing here? I thought you were mad."

"Yeah…"

There was an awkward silence in which the two stared at each other.

"Can I… come in?" she asked cautiously.

"Yeah, of course. Here," Benny replied quickly. He swung the door open and fumbled with the television remote and managed to mute it. Mimi carefully sat down on the edge of the couch, her hands still in her pockets.

"Benny…" she started, trailing off. Benny watched her eyes drift around the apartment and settle their gaze on the box of Captain Crunch on the kitchen counter. 

Benny sat down on the chair and sighed quietly. "Mimi…" he mimicked.

She quickly looked over to Benny and let out a small laugh. 

"Sorry, I'm just… I think we need to talk."

"Yeah, I think we do."

"Look, I'm sorry that I yelled at you. I guess I shouldn't have since you called to kind of patch things up. And since you don't speak Spanish," she laughed.

"And I shouldn't have yelled at you when you told me."

"No, you were just worried. It makes sense."

"I doesn't. I shouldn't have. I feel horrible."

"Don't," Mimi laughed. "It's okay. Maybe all our yelling cancels itself out."

"Maybe," Benny smiled. He got up and sat next to Mimi on the couch. "I just can't imagine having to go through it all alone."

"I'm not, though. I've got my mother and I've got really great friends. And I had an amazing boyfriend until he went loco." Benny placed an arm around Mimi's shoulders and laughed.

"I like it when you talk Spanish."

"I wasn't speaking any Spanish."

"But I like it when you do," Benny laughed.

"You're weird," she giggled. "I don't want to fight with you. I've missed you."

"I missed you, too." Benny kissed Mimi and rested his forehead against hers. "Let's not fight again."

"Sounds good," she grinned, kissing him back. "I love you."

Both of them froze in their place. It was apparent that Mimi immediately regretted saying that. A delicate hand travelled up and covered her mouth. Benny pulled away, his eyes wide.

"What?"

"Nothing," Mimi replied quickly. "I said nothing."

"Look, Mimi…" he started.

"No!" she shouted, jumping up from her seat. "Forget it." She reached out to the door handle and struggled to pull it open. Benny stood up after her and walked around so that he was facing her.

"Why did you say that?" he asked quickly, a slight frown on his face.

"I don't know," she let go of the door handle and wrapped her arms around herself. "Because I do."

"Mimi, I don't think you know what you're talking about."

"What if I do?" she replied quietly, looking down at her feet.

"But you don't. You're only eighteen, Mimi. Don't you think you're kind of young to be feeling like that?"

"So now I'm too young for you?" Mimi shot back.

"I didn't say that—"

"You didn't have to!" Mimi took a step back and let her arms drop to her sides. "Why don't you just tell me what you think, then?"

"Well I thought we were doing fine until you said that!"

"What's wrong with my saying _that_? What if it's true?" Mimi asked harshly, making air quotations with her fingers when she said 'that.'

"It's not, though! We've been seeing each other for less than a month and you're already throwing that word around?" Both Benny and Mimi were apprehensive about using the actual word, though neither of them knew why.

"Jesus, Benny! What if I'm not throwing the word around? That's what I'm trying to ask you, but you keep dancing around it like if you answer me you'll burst into flames! Why won't you give me a straight answer?" she yelled.

Benny remained quiet for a short moment, then threw his hands up in the air. "Because I don't know what to say," he replied, defeated. Mimi shrugged and leaned on the door, crossing her arms over her chest. She kept her gaze fixed on the kitchen, her face expressionless.

"I think we're moving too fast," Benny said quietly and calmly. Mimi remained silent and motionless, so he continued.

"I've really enjoyed the last couple weeks. I really like spending time with you, hanging out with you, and I don't want to lose that. I just don't think our relationship's… mature enough for all of this to be happening so soon."

"Yeah," Mimi replied emotionlessly, still staring off into space.

"Maybe we need…" Benny took a deep breath and sighed. "Maybe we need to take a break." Mimi looked at Benny, a look of anguish on her face.

"Just for a little while. We can find out what we want… figure everything out."

"Sure." Mimi shut her eyes and swung open the loft door, running down the stairs quickly.

"Mimi!" Benny called, but he didn't chase after her. He leaned against the doorframe and ran his fingers through his short hair. He couldn't say anything without Mimi getting angry at him. 

Benny shook his head and shut the door quietly. He stood, staring at it for several minutes as if he was expecting Mimi to come back. She didn't, so he sat back down on the couch and watched the muted television. After another episode of _Perfect Strangers_, two _Full House_ episodes, and half of a _Step By Step_, the door slowly creaked open and Maureen poked her head in the loft.

"Mark home?" she asked, wincing.

"Nope," Benny shook his head.

Maureen sighed. "Good." She entered the loft and hung up her coat and took off her shoes. She immediately made a beeline over to the kitchen and searched through the fridge for something to eat.

"Where'd he go?" she asked.

"Never came home," Benny replied, shrugging.

"He's still in Scarsdale?" Maureen asked, turning back to Benny.

"I guess."

"Oh," she sighed, relieved. She studied Benny for a moment and leaned back onto the counter. "Want to do me a favour?"

"Maybe," he shrugged.

"Don't tell Mark I wasn't here last night."

"Why not? Where were you?"

"Just at a friend's house. She's going through a bad break up and wanted someone to watch sappy movies with," she laughed, opening the fridge back up.

"'She'?" he asked.

"Yes. Don't tell me you think I'm cheating on Mark, too."

"Didn't say that," he shrugged. "It's just weird that you didn't come home last night," he prodded her.

"Look, do you want me to call her up so you can ask her if I was there?" Maureen asked loudly.

"No," Benny laughed, shaking his head. "I believe you."

"That's right you do," she grinned, pouring some cereal into her bowl of milk. She took it over to the couch and carefully sat down next to Benny, not wanting to spill any of her meal.

The two remained seated on the couch, talking and watching television (Maureen had turned up the volume when she realized she didn't understand the story line). Benny confessed what happened with Mimi, feeling the need to ask for advice. Maureen laughed at him and reassured him that he should wait until Collins came home for advice. 

When Mark came home later that afternoon, he found Benny and Maureen asleep on the couch, the television still playing in the background. He shut it off for them and quietly checked the loft to see if Roger had returned home yet. No such luck.

He felt a sinking feeling in his stomach and the worry that he had tried to shove to the back of his mind for the last several days came screaming out of him. What if Roger _was_ dead?


	18. Chapter 18

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Chapter 18

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A/N: Thanks for the reviews! They get me so excited, seriously. Did I also mention that I lead a rather sheltered life? ; )

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The next evening, Mark, Maureen, Benny, and Collins sat sprawled out in the living room. Benny had kept his promise and not told Mark about Maureen's absence the night before, and she had even managed to get to Collins before he could say anything to Mark.

"I spy with my superhuman eye, something that is… purple!" Maureen squealed.

"Your shirt."

"Wow, you're good," she giggled. "Your turn, Collins!"

"Maureen, I don't want to play I Spy anymore. Can't we do something better?"

Maureen looked shocked and hurt at Collins' reply. "You don't want to play I Spy?" She stared at her friend and watched him shake his head. She slowly looked over to Benny and grinned. "Go, Benny!"

"Maureen…"

"Go!" she yelled, jumping up and down in her seat.

"Not enough Cheerios in your sugar this morning?" Collins asked, laughing.

"No. Now go."

Benny sighed. "I spy with my freakin' eye, something that is blue."

"Your pants!" Maureen guessed. Benny shook his head. "My pants! Mark's pants! Collins' pants!"

"Oh my _God_!" Benny yelled, leaning back onto the floor. "I don't want to play, Maureen!"

"Well what do you suggest then?"

"Eating. I'm hungry."

"You're always hungry, and I'm not, so I want to do something else!"

"I don't care, Maureen," Benny replied, now in the kitchen sifting through the many plastic containers of food.

"Well I care, and you suck!"

"Calm down," Collins laughed, sitting up straighter in the chair. "Benny, grab me a beer."

Benny did as he was told. "Anybody else want one?" 

"Yep," Maureen replied, studying her nails.

"Mark, want one?"

No answer.

"Mark?"

Collins and Maureen burst into laughter, noticing that Mark was asleep on his end of the couch, half of his body on the floor.

"Marky, wake up." Maureen pushed him over and he sprung up from the ground.

"What?" he asked groggily amidst the others' laughter.

"Do you want a drink?" she asked, laying on her stomach on the couch. She ran a hand through Mark's hair but recoiled quickly, sitting up again.

"Sure," he replied, rubbing his face with a free hand while the other steadied him on the ground. "How long was I asleep?" he asked.

"I dunno," Maureen shrugged.

"But you slept through Maureen yelling at us for not wanting to play I Spy," Benny laughed, handing out the beers. He grabbed the plastic container from the counter and opened it, eating the cold food inside. 

"What are you doing tonight?" Maureen asked Collins, trying to turn her attention away from Benny, who she felt the sudden urge to ignore.

"Nothing. Just hanging around here, I guess," he replied. Mark pushed himself off the floor and back up onto the couch.

"No Noah?" he asked.

"Nope. He's got the flu," he grimaced. 

"Gross!" Maureen wrinkled her nose and took a big gulp of her beer.

"Slow down there, little lady," Mark laughed, wrapping and arm around her shoulders.

"You guys make me want to ralph," Benny shook his head as he shoved another forkful of food into his mouth.

"Oh, please!" Mark laughed. "And I quote: 'I'm going to see Mimi! I went over to Mimi's! I love talking to Mimi! Mimi is so wonderful!'"

"He's right, man," Collins pointed out, raising his bottle to Benny.

"Shut up," he replied, downing half of his beer quickly.

"No need to be bitter about it," Mark replied.

"Did you not understand me or something?"

"God, sorry." Mark replied, retreating back to Maureen.

"Are you still pissed because she yelled at you in Spanish?" Collins laughed.

"No."

"Just have a stick up your ass?" Maureen asked sympathetically.

"Maybe," Benny replied.

Maureen started to say something, but before she could Mark covered her mouth with his hand.

"What'd she do?" Mark asked, cutting Maureen off.

Benny swallowed the last of his meal and dropped the Tupperware onto the ground. "She just… Everything got weird. She started saying she loved me and freaked me out."

"She did?" Collins asked, setting his bottle down next to him. "Why?"

"How the hell should I know?" Benny yelled. "God, I don't know. She's so young. She doesn't know what she means."

Everybody remained silent.

"Why did I say all that? Shit. I'll just… get drunk." He stood up and grabbed another beer from the fridge. He leaned against the counter and crossed his free arm over his chest.

"Want to go outside?" Mark whispered to Maureen. She shrugged and nodded. Mark figured it was probably best for Benny to talk to Collins since he was usually the peacemaker of the group. He gave the best advice.

-----------------

Mark and Maureen sat outside on the fire escape hunkered down under an old blanket. Mark had eaten some of the food sent home with him, but Maureen just drank her beer claiming she wasn't hungry. Inside, rather than Collins offering advice to Benny, they told each other stupid jokes and played a game they came up with, entitled 'What's That Smell?'. The couple figured it would be easier to hang around outside rather than listen to their friends' escapades. 

"So what did you do without me all weekend?" Mark asked, positioning himself so he was more comfortably sitting against the brick wall of the building.

"Oh, please. You make it sound like you went off to war for a year," Maureen laughed, pulling more of the blanket over to her. 

"It was like war," he joked, pulling her closer t him. Maureen looked up at him and raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

"My mom thinks I need to marry a Jewish girl and keeps nagging me to call this girl down the street for a date," he shook his head. "But I just kept telling her, 'No, mom, I wanna be with Maureen!'"

Mark laughed and Maureen frowned slightly, feelings of guilt racing through her mind. She remained quiet and Mark nudged her gently. 

"Earth to Maureen," he laughed. She looked up at him and forced a smile, shying away from him a bit. "You all right?"

"Yeah," she giggled. "Just sleepy."

"Sleepy? It's only like, seven. You're a loser," he grinned, rocking her back and forth.

Maureen gave a weak smile and steadied herself with her hands. 

"Yeah, well…" she trailed off, resting her head on Mark's shoulder. "So are you."

Mark smiled and kissed his girlfriend. They could hear the muffled laughing from inside the loft and distant sounds of the city. They stayed like that for several minutes remaining attentive to the sounds around them, but were removed from their trance-like state when Collins poked his head out the window, grinning.

"Okay-okay-okay!" he started, preparing his friends for the hilarity that he was sure would ensure. "What do you say when somebody tried to steal your cheese?" The grin was still plastered on his face, and he looked to the both of them for a response. Mark shrugged and Maureen rolled her eyes, laughing.

"Nacho cheese!" he answered loudly as Benny's laugh was heard from inside. He shook his head, still laughing, and left the two alone again, repeating himself. "Nacho cheese…"

"So, turns out… they're a little drunk," Maureen laughed, beginning to shiver. Mark noticed this and gave her more of the blanket, rubbing her arms to keep her warm.

"It's cold!" she yelled. A dog replied with it's far-away yelp, but soon resettled itself.

"You want to go back in?" Mark asked, turning to Maureen.

She thought for a moment then finally shook her head slowly. She didn't want to have to deal with the two in there. Benny was a very honest drunk, so there was no telling what he'd spill to Mark.

"No, let's stay out here." Maureen smiled and shifted closer to Mark so that she was warmer. "Tell me about your weekend." She rested her head on Mark's shoulder again and shut her eyes.

"Uh, well, my niece is afraid of me, my sister's pregnant and my mom won't be happy unless you're Jewish."

"I'll be Jewish if you want me to be," Maureen replied seductively.

"You'll do anything," Mark grinned. "That's why I love you."

"Your sister's pregnant again? How old are the twins?" she asked quickly, trying to change the subject.

"They're two. She was pretty worried, didn't know how they were gonna manage with another kid. But they'll do fine. She's a stay-at-home mom, anyway, and Michael makes plenty of money."

"Hmm, it would be nice if you made plenty of money." Maureen poked Mark in the side and laughed.

"I've got plenty of money. Go make your own!"

"I'm a stay-at-home mom."

"We don't have kids yet," Mark replied. He felt Maureen tense up and looked down at her. "You good?"

"Yeah," she replied slowly. _Yet._ That word made Maureen shiver.

"Hey, speaking of money, guess what I got?" Mark asked, suddenly enthusiastic.

"What?" Maureen asked, distracted.

"Five hundred bucks."

"What?" Maureen laughed. "How? Have you been whoring yourself again?"

"I just can't stay away," he replied sarcastically. "No, some great uncle died and left me money. Cool, eh?"

"Yeah," Maureen laughed. "That's a lot of money. You're gonna share, right?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at Mark.

"If you're nice," he replied.

"I'm always nice," she argued. She snuggled in closer to Mark and slid down a bit so that the blanket was almost over face. "Brr," she laughed. Mark kissed the top of her head and resting his head against hers. This was perfect for him. 

"We could actually have food in the fridge for the whole week. That would be something new."

"And impossible with the bottomless pit in there," she laughed, jerking her head in the direction of the window.

"Fair enough. You still wanna go to Scarsdale on Friday?"

"I guess."

"What a way to spend our anniversary," Mark laughed.

"Yeah," Maureen laughed nervously. Anniversary? "We'll just have to celebrate another time, I guess."

"Mmm," Mark replied. "How about now?"

"Huh?"

"Want to hop on the good foot and do the bad thing?"

Maureen couldn't do it. She had to stop raising Mark's hopes. She wanted to be with Joanne… _Right?_ She had never been with anybody as long as she had been with Mark, so it was only natural that she needed to get out of the relationship. She needed change. Change helped her move forward. Of course she was going to cheat on him.

Maureen shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts of any attempts at justifying what she was doing and forced a small laugh. "Maybe later."

"Maureen Johnson turning down sex? You must be sleepy," he laughed. "You sure you want to stay out here then? You could go to bed." She shrugged and let Mark hug her closer. The last thing she wanted to do was share a bed with Mark, making him think that she loved him as much as he loved her.

They sat, bundled up in the blankets wrapped up in each others arms for a long time. Mark listened to Maureen's steady breathing and realized that she must have been asleep. He continued to doze on and off, trying to keep warm while he was conscious.

"Mark!" He heard Benny's voice calling from inside.

"Mark!" This time it was more urgent.

"Mark! Get the fuck in here!" he yelled. Mark stood up slowly, shaking Maureen awake. They crawled in through the window to see Roger standing in the middle of the room. Or rather, a variation of Roger that certainly needed a shave and a change of clothes.

"Rog?" Mark asked. Maureen had wandered off to bed, so he moved closer to his friend. Collins was staring at Roger from the kitchen and Benny was standing by the couch, neither making a move to get closerer to him.

Roger didn't answer, so Mark tried again. "Roger?"

Roger blinked several times, and rubbed his head with his hand. He took off his shoes and sat down carefully on the couch, slouching over.

"Roger, where the hell have you been?" he asked again, raising his voice.

Roger grunted in response and covered his ears.

"Be quiet. Please."

Mark looked over at Collins who shrugged and raised his eyebrows.

"Where were you?" Benny asked, moving away from Roger on the couch.

"Around," was Roger's muffled reply.

"Care to elaborate?" he prodded. Collins shook his head at Benny from his stationary spot in the kitchen.

"No," Roger gruffly responded. "Can you guys just leave me—where's April?"

"She's gone, Rog," Mark replied, stepping closer to the couch.

"Wha—where did she…?"

"Rehab."

"Bitch," he spat.

"Here, drink this," Collins said, handing Roger a glass of water. He batted it away and shook his head.

"What the fuck is up with you guys?"

"You've had us worried," Collins replied.

"Huh?"

"You've been gone for almost a week, Roger."

"Gone where?"

"That's what we're trying to find out," Benny commented wryly.

"Shut up."

"Well are you going to tell us or not?" Benny prodded him, clearly frustrated with Roger.

"God! Just fuck off, all of you!" he yelled. Everyone was taken aback by this and stared back at him in shock. "My head hurts and the last fucking thing I need is you guys whining about whatever the fuck you're whining about! Just leave me the hell alone or I'll kick your ass!" He stormed into Mark's bedroom and slammed the door behind him. They heard him yell at Maureen to 'get the fuck out of his bedroom' and she soon appeared in the living room.

"Roger's home," she announced stupidly.

"We noticed," Benny snorted. She shoved him and plopped down on the couch. 

"What's happening?"

"He came home and yelled at us," Collins said, sitting down next to her. "That boy, I tell you."

Benny sat down in the chair before Mark could get the chance to, so Mark leaned against it instead. 

"What do we do about him?" Benny asked, suddenly a lot more sober. The others shrugged.

"Wait till he's less crashed and willing to listen?" Collins suggested.

"Asshole," Maureen muttered. Collins elbowed her in the ribs and she shrugged. He shook his head.

"Asshole."


	19. Chapter 19

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Chapter 19

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A/N: Thanks for the reviews, guys. I hope you're liking this. I'm kind of having some writer's block as to what happens in a while, so if you want to help me out please feel free to e-mail me. Enjoy! =)

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Maureen sat carefully on the edge of Roger's bed and pulled her socks back on. She and Mark slept in Roger's bed since Roger overtook their room the night before. She had managed to wake up early and sneak into their room to grab some clean clothes. She had become good at sneaking around in the last little while.

She stood up and swept her hair up into a ponytail. When she was satisfied with the look of it, she bent down to pick her old clothes up from the bed and tossed them on the ground instead. 

"Mo?"

Maureen stood still and put a fake grin on her face. "Morning," she greeted Mark brightly.

"Where are you going?" he asked, rubbing his eyes and sitting up slowly. "It's early."

"Yeah," she replied. "Just out. I gotta run some errands real fast," she lied.

"But it's early," he repeated. "Come back to bed."

"I'll be back in a bit, Pookie," Maureen argued, sitting down on the bed. "You won't even notice I was gone."

"I always notice when you're gone," he replied sleepily. "Don't go." He reached out and took her hand, pulling her back down to him. She struggled out of his grasp and placed a hand on his cheek.

"I won't be long. I'll be back before you know it. I just have to go out for a little while." She kissed him quickly and pushed his hair off his forehead so it was sticking up. She patted him on the cheek and stood up again. "I'll see you in a bit, okay?"

"Fine," Mark replied angrily, though he shrugged to try and cover it up. He flopped over and pulled the blankets over his head.

__

Great, Maureen thought. _I can't do anything right anymore._

Maureen rolled her eyes and slid out the door into the loft. She heard somebody taking a shower in the bathroom, probably Benny or Collins, and figured now would probably be the best time to escape and find someone new to spend her day with.

-----------------

Mark's eyes fluttered open and he flung the blankets off of him. He had been awake for the last little while, but remained in bed with his eyes shut and the blankets up over his head. It was warmer that way. He wasn't sure how long he had been drifting in and out of consciousness, but he was sure that he was mad that Maureen ran out on him earlier that morning. As usual she didn't tell him where she was going, so he automatically expected the worst.

__

"I'll be back in a bit, Pookie. You won't even notice I was gone."

He felt around on the ground below him for his glasses, and when he found them, shoved them on his face, sighing.

__

"I'll be back before you know it."

He sat up and slowly got out of Roger's bed. He did a double take, remembering why he was in it in the first place. It was pretty uncomfortable; it felt like springs were sticking out and it was very lumpy. Mark rubbed his back and still wearing his clothes from the night before, stepped into the living room. He glanced at the clock on the microwave in the kitchen and realized that it was one in the afternoon. 

"Hey."

Mark whirled around to see Collins sitting on the couch behind him.

"Hi. Why aren't you at work?"

"Good to see you, too," he laughed. "I'm heading out in a bit." Mark nodded and wandered into the kitchen, removing a random container of food from the fridge. He slid it into the microwave and hoped that it would melt or explode.

"Are those even microwaveable?" he asked, watching it slowly spinning around in the microwave. Collins looked up from his work and shrugged. 

"I guess."

"Has Roger been up?" Mark asked, finding something to drink in the fridge.

"Not for as long as I've been up, but that's only been a couple of hours. I highly doubt he'd have gotten up early, though."

Mark nodded. "Yeah, you're right."

The microwave beeped, signifying it had finished heating up Mark's meal. He took it out and breathed a small sigh of relief when nothing was engulfed in flames. He grabbed a fork from one of the drawers and broke off the handle in the process. 

"I've said it before and I'll say it again: our loft sucks," Mark shook his head and sat down on the chair by Collins, digging into his mother's meat loaf.

"It really does. Sometimes I think about moving," Collins laughed, but stopped abruptly and paused. "Well, I might…"

"Huh? With Noah?" Mark asked, not thinking much of his friend's comment.

"No," Collins replied, eyes glued to the work in front of him.

Mark looked up. "Then where?"

"I haven't told you guys… and I don't know why, but I guess I need to soon." Collins laughed nervously.

"Told us what?" Mark asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Well, I got this great offer for a teaching position."

"That's good, right?"

"Yeah, it is. Computer-Age Philosophy. I get a whole load of benefits and vacation time and stuff."

"Sounds good," Mark laughed. "So you're just gonna move closer to NYU, then?"

"Not quite… The position isn't for NYU."

"Then what's it for?" Mark asked, regarding his friend curiously.

"MIT."

"MIT? Like, the Massachusetts Institute of… Technology?" Mark asked, eyebrows raised and voice several notches higher than normal.

"Yeah," Collins replied quietly.

"And you're taking it?"

"Yeah."

"Oh." Mark attempted to sound a lot less hurt than he was at that moment. "So you'll like, leave this summer and come back to visit on vacations or whatever?"

"No, I'll leave Sunday and come back to visit on vacations," Collins replied calmly, not wanting to spark a fight.

"Sunday?" Mark yelled. "Sunday?" 

"Yeah. I know I should have told you guys sooner, but I—"

"Sunday?!"

"I just can't pass this up. I'd get to teach stuff that I want to, they're gonna pay me better. I don't think I can stick it out at NYU knowing I could have taken this opportunity."

"Yeah…" Mark said, not knowing what else to say. "So you're doing it, then?"

"I think so. I mean, yeah I'm apprehensive about it, but this could be great."

"Yeah." Mark shoved some more food into his mouth.

"Do you think I should?" Collins asked, wincing. He was obviously not sure about his decision. Mark thought a moment and swallowed his food.

"I don't know. I know I'd miss you. And so would my parents," he forced a laugh. "I don't want you to go. But, hey, it's your decision."

"I guess. I don't know, I guess I'll just keep thinking about it. Do me a favour? Don't tell anybody yet. Even Maureen."

Mark pretended to zip his lips and throw away the key. "No problem."

The men sat in the living room for a little while longer making small talk until Collins had to leave for class.

-----------------

Roger wiped the sweat off his forehead and kicked the blankets off of him. He rolled over and buried his face in the pillow, pulling it out from under him immediately after, smothering the back of his head with it.

"I am slowly going crazy," he murmured. "One-two-three-for-five-six-switch."

He rubbed his eyes and pulled out the needle and plastic bag of white powder from under the mattress. He put it there last night, in case one of his 'friends' were to storm in and yell at him. He toyed with the thought of using it, pulling it out from time to time, staring at it, then putting all his willpower to work and deciding to save it until he really needed it.

He kind of needed it now. He could use it and feel great for a while. But after it wore off he'd want more. And he didn't have more. Unless he left again. He could leave again, find lots and lots of drugs, drink a bit, meet some nice girls and have the time of his life. Again.

Roger's mind was cleared of all those thoughts when he heard somebody banging around in the kitchen; probably Mark. He was a real asshole that way. 

He carefully shoved the needle and powder back under the mattress and placed his hands behind his head. The last thing he needed was Mark barging in and yelling at him for using again.

Roger shut his eyes and let his mind become flooding with images and memories of the past week. It was horrible, but at the same time it was fantastic. He had managed to convince one of his bandmates, Bender, to let him stay with him even though Roger wasn't there too often. His days were mainly spent getting high, getting drunk, and going at it with a random bleached, sparkled, and equally drunk or high groupie. He couldn't remember a lot of it, but the parts he did remember were awesome.

Roger sniffed and played with the edge of the blue comforter at the foot of the bed. This wasn't familiar. He glanced around the room and he finally realized that he wasn't in his bedroom, but Mark's. Which meant it was also Maureen's. Which meant he didn't know what the hell had been done in this bed. Gross. He leapt out and picked up the jacket he had "borrowed" from Bender from the floor, swinging the creaky door open. He stepped out into the loft and noticed Mark in the kitchen with his back to him.

"Morning," Mark greeted, deadpan, without looking up.

"Hi," Roger replied awkwardly. He hurried over to his room and flopped onto his back on his bed. Mark appeared in the doorway with a plate of food in his hand.

"Hungry?" he asked casually, stuffing what looked like a waffle into his mouth. 

Roger shrugged and nodded. Mark left the room and returned with another plate with more waffles on them and shoved them in front of Roger, who was now sitting up.

"Here."

"Thanks," Roger replied, picking a waffle up and examining it.

"If you're not gonna eat it, I will," Mark retorted, rolling his eyes.

"No, I will," Roger replied quietly, taking a small bite. "It's good."

"I know."

Roger snorted. Mark sighed and sat down on the bed, looking down at his feet.

"Is it okay… if we talk?" he asked.

Roger nodded slowly, still staring down at his plate. "Yeah, I guess."

There was a long silence where both men were afraid to bring up where Roger had been. They sat eating their waffles, and when they were finished, placed their plates on the ground by Mark's feet.

"Where's everyone else?" Roger asked, sick of the quiet.

Mark shrugged. "Out. Work, work, and God knows where."

Roger stifled a laugh. "She's a bitch." 

Mark rolled his eyes and stood up, but Roger quickly apologized.

"No-no-no, I didn't mean it like that. Sorry."

"You never mean it like that," Mark gave a big sigh and plopped back down on the seat. "Where the hell have you been?"

Roger grimaced and traced over the pattern on the sheets. "Don't want to say."

"What are you, five? You're _how_ old Roger?" Mark demanded.

"Twenty four," Roger muttered. That was very unlike Mark.

"How old? I'm sorry, I can't hear you!" Mark mocked him, treating him like he was a child who had brought home a bad report card to his parents.

"Twenty four, Mark! I'm twenty four and I'm a fuck up who can't even be married without messing up again. You happy?" Roger yelled, letting out all of his pent-up anger and frustration. 

"No, I'm not! You disappear for a week and come back cranky and crashed and you smell like ass, and you expect me to show you some sympathy?"

"I don't expect anything from you. You've got the fucking perfect life, so why the hell should I expect you to care about anything else?"

"Excuse me?" Mark asked, shocked. "Far from perfect, if anything, and this is not what we're talking about. Where the hell did you go and why did you just leave April high and dry like that?"

Fuck. Roger hadn't thought about April.

"Where is she?" he asked quietly.

"Rehab, idiot. We told you yesterday. I can't believe you," Mark shook his head violently, picked up the plates form the ground and stormed out of Roger's room. Roger rubbed his forehead and rolled over onto his stomach, burying his face in his pillow. What the hell what that smell? Flowers or fruit or another random shampoo scent, he concluded. He pushed himself up onto his elbows and kicked his feet against the mattress. What if…

No, he should save it for later, when he really needed it.

Or he could climb out the window and go join the others. He sprung up from the bed and pressed his nose against the frosted window. Seven stories wasn't too far. He could crawl long the tiny ledge and land in the dumpster. Or he could climb to the roof, take the stairs down from there. Mark would never know and he'd get out scot-free. Roger tapped his fingernails slowly along the glass and pulled back from it. He placed his hands at the bottom and tried to pull it up to no avail. He gave another attempt, putting all his force into it. When the window still didn't budge, Roger became frustrated. He stepped back and proceeded to kick the window's pane, the glass shattering in front of him. He yelped in pain and pulled his foot back quickly, hopping on the other to keep his balance.

Mark appeared in the doorway, eyebrows raised, clearly frustrated with Roger. "What the hell happened?" 

"Nothing. I've got it under control." Roger's facial expressions contorted as he winced in pain and tried to look calm and collected at the same time. "You can go."

"Rog, your foot's--"

"Go!" Roger yelled, much harsher than he wanted to.

Mark immediately looked hurt, threw his hands up in the air, and shut Roger's door gently behind him.

"Fuck," Roger muttered, sitting down on the edge of his bed. He put his injured leg up on the bed and winced again as he removed his sock. His foot was bleeding, but not as much as it could have been. He stood up on his good foot and limped out into the living room. He saw Mark washing the two plates from before forcefully, muttering under his breath.

Roger glanced around the loft for something he could use as a tourniquet. He watched Mark storm into the bathroom and come back out with a towel. He threw it at Roger and returned to the sink, slamming the wet plates on the counter next to him.

"Thanks," Roger said, sitting carefully down on the ground. He laid the towel out and placed his foot on it.

"You're doing it wrong." Mark shook his head and sat in front of Roger. He took the liberty of fashioning a makeshift cast around Roger's foot. They both knew they couldn't afford to take Roger to the hospital, so Mark did what he could there at the loft.

"Sorry that I yelled."

"Okay," Mark replied monotonously, continuing with his work. Roger watched him in amazement and silence.

"Were you a Boy Scout?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"Did you have like, a sash for badges and stuff?" Roger asked, amused.

"No, that's Girl Scouts. Boy Scouts had vests."

"Can you make a campfire?"

"Probably." Mark finished up, stood up and washed his hands back over at the sink. Roger hadn't even thought about AIDS. He hadn't been thinking about too much, it would seem. Mark had essentially just put his life on the line for Roger.

"Sorry." That would was becoming far too familiar.

"Yup," Mark replied, wiping his hands dry on his jeans.

"Can we just talk this out like civil people?"

Mark whirled around and faced his roommate, anger flaring in his eyes. "Go."

Roger started at Mark, a look of confusion on his face. He had no clue what to say. Sighing, Mark raised an eyebrow and walked over to his bedroom.

"Exactly."

"Mark," Roger started nervously. "Look, I don't know what to tell you besides that I'm a screw-up and I'm just as mad at myself as you are," he lied, trying to appease the blonde man.

Mark turned around, fed up. "Why did you leave?"

"I don't know. God, Mark, because I needed smack. You know that."

Mark's disposition immediately softened. "Just wanted to hear you say it, I guess. But you said you were gonna stop." 

"I know. I want to, it's just hard. It's not like I can just give it up like that."

"Yeah," Mark replied, noticing his friend fidgeting. "Are you okay now?"

Roger shrugged and crossed his arms. "Kind of. Look, I'm sorry about everything before, I really am."

"I know," Mark nodded. He gave in and sat down on the couch. Roger followed suit and sat down, too. 

"I feel bad, I really do. I don't like not being friends."

"Me neither," Mark shrugged. "Then why do you do it all?"

"What's 'it all'?"

"Everything… drugs, ditching us. Getting married," he added quietly.

"You mad about that?" Roger asked, glancing over at Mark from his seat on the chair.

"Not really mad, just kind of shocked, I guess. I had to find out through Maureen."

"Hey, Maureen wasn't my idea, it was April's. She said she helped her or whatever. If it was up to me, you would have come with us." He shrugged. "I figured I should let the little woman have her way."

Mark laughed. "Yeah. Next time tell me before you get married, though."

"Will do." Roger sniffed and leaned back in the chair. "Where's the coffee table?"

"It died."

"Died?"

"Yeah," Mark replied. "It broke."

Roger nodded and paused before speaking again. 

"Can we just like, put everything else behind us? Kind of, start over or something? I want to get better."

"Yeah. Start over," he repeated. "I guess. As long as you don't run out again."

Roger shrugged. "Run away from my problems…" he trailed off. 

"Your mom called."

"Fuck. Did she cry?"

"I didn't tell her you were gone. I said you were in the shower all four times she called. She probably thinks you're the cleanest guy in the world." He was anything but.

Roger took this as a cue. "I guess I should shower."

"Yeah. Call her, though. I think she's getting suspicious."

"Thanks, Captain Obvious," Roger joked. He stood up and smiled. "So we're good, right?"

"Yeah, as long you don't–"

"I won't," he replied, shaking his head. He turned and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

Mark hoped that Roger was serious this time.


	20. Chapter 20

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Chapter 20

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A/N: Sorry about the delay. I've been really, really busy with school/rehearsals! The next one should be up sooner, though. But, wow, 20 chapters. In the beginning of this story I was convinced that I would wrap it up quickly or I'd give up first. There's still a lot to go without an end in sight, so enjoy!

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Maureen woke up the next morning, her arm hanging off the edge of the bed. She was grateful to be back in her own bed rather than Roger's which was a lot less squishy. Shifting around in her place, she found it difficult to get comfortable. The mattress was lumpy and tilted. Only one night in their bed and Roger had made it uncomfortable, too. She gave in and settled, realizing she probably wasn't going to get much more comfortable.

Maureen had returned home later the evening before to much questioning from Mark. She skilfully managed to dodge his accusation and make him forget about her disappearance using her persuasive tactics, at least for the time being. She hated herself for what she was doing to everybody around her but realized she couldn't change it, so decided to learn to live with it instead.

She crawled across the bed to the dresser and pulled out one of Mark's tee shirts, tossing it on quickly. She huddled back underneath the covers and laid her lips gently against Mark's shoulder.

"Mark," she sang, giggling. She wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Five more minutes," he moaned sleepily.

"No, now," Maureen complained, resting her chin on his shoulder. She ran her fingers down Mark's arm and slid her hand into his.

Mark made an inaudible noise and Maureen rested her head on his chest. He wound his fingers into her hair and his eyes fluttered open. "What time is it?"

"High noon?"

"What?"

"I dunno," she giggled.

"Oh," Mark yawned, resettling his head on the pillow and shutting his eyes.

"Wake up," Maureen whined, shaking Mark. "Let's go for a walk!"

"Sleep…" he replied drowsily.

Maureen moved her hand up to into his hair and looked up into his eyes, which were open again. 

"Please?" she pouted. "I'll be your best friend."

"In that case," Mark started, lifting his head off the pillow. "No." He flopped back down and shut his eyes tightly from the light.

"Jerk," Maureen laughed, sitting up and placing her hands on Mark's shoulders, shaking him awake. "Come on!"

Mark sighed loudly. 

"Okay, okay. Here I go," Mark replied, not moving. Maureen hopped out of the bed and tossed a pair of boxers at his head. She put her own clothes on and when she noticed Mark was still not up, jumped on the bed.

"Get up!" she yelled, landing on Mark's stomach.

Mark yelped in pain and wrapped his arms around his girlfriend to keep her stationary.

"What the hell are you on?" he laughed.

"Can't I just be excited to spend the morning with my boyfriend?" she smiled innocently, knowing very well that she was anything but.

He smiled back and kissed her. Things were going to be okay.

"Tell you what. I'm going to go take a shower, and you can join me if you like," he grinned. "Then we can go grab some breakfast from the Life or something and I'll take you to your rehearsal. Sound good?"

"Yeah it does." Maureen smiled and flipped over onto her back allowing Mark to put on some pants. She stretched and Mark rested a hand on her stomach, kissing her quickly.

"I'm going to go start the water," he told her, sitting up and getting off the bed.

"I'll be there in a sec," she replied. She watched Mark leave the room and slowly sat up, shaking her head in frustration. 

Any feelings that she had been trying to repress for Mark came flooding back and she wanted to be with him again. She knew that she couldn't do this and she had to make a decision, but maybe she could tag along with him for just a little while longer. She didn't want to leave him just yet.

Maureen punched down the mattress, trying to flatten the lump that had been bothering her all night. She realized that it wasn't the misshapen mattress, though; something was underneath it. She hopped off the bed and lifted the heavy mattress carefully, finding the culprit. Maureen pulled out the needle and bag of white powder underneath that Roger had left there the night before. Standing up quickly, she held the two objects between her fingers like she was afraid to touch them. She stared at them and poked at the powder inside the bag.

"You coming or what?" Mark asked, leaning into the bedroom. His eyes opened wide and the smile that was on his face disappeared. Maureen looked up at Mark quickly, looking like a deer caught in the headlights of a pick-up truck.

"What's that?" Mark asked slowly.

Maureen shrugged. "It was under the bed."

Mark suddenly understood. 

__

Maureen's strange absence, not telling him where she was, lying through her teeth.

"That's why you leave all the time…" he said quietly, still staring at Maureen.

"What?"

"No, how didn't I see it?" he asked, his voice louder. "Roger's into it, April's into it… it was only a matter of time before you were, too, right?" He laughed bitterly.

Maureen dropped the drugs onto the bed and walked towards Mark, who felt like his legs were made of lead and couldn't move.

"Mark, it's not mine," she reassured him.

Mark shook his head at her and all the colour drained from his face.

"I swear, Mark." 

Mark managed to step back into the loft and leaned against the wall, still in shock.

"Mark, it's not. I wouldn't even know how to use it," she rationalized. "Believe me." She carefully cupped Mark's face in her hands and rubbed his cheek with her thumb.

"Roger," Mark called in a daze. Maureen stared at Mark and pulled away from him, gasping, and proceeded to walk back into their bedroom. She sat down on the bed and leaned her side against the headboard, shocked as to why Mark wouldn't believe her. She didn't want to care, but she couldn't help it. She didn't want Mark to think that about her.

Immediately, Mark entered the bedroom and Roger hobbled in after him. Mark inadvertently pointed to the powder and needle on the bed.

"Is that yours or Maureen's?" he asked quietly, obviously scared that it really was hers.

"It's mine," he shrugged, snatching it off the bed. In retrospect, he realized he should have said it was Maureen's. Then she would have been out of the loft so fast her head would spin and he wouldn't have to deal with the diva anymore. He knew that he needed it too much though, as a security blanket if as nothing else. When he couldn't find it last night, he nearly had a conniption.

Mark breathed a silent sigh of relief and ran his fingers through his hair. Roger left the room again, leaving Mark and Maureen alone once more. 

"I'm so sorry," he apologized, quickly sitting next to Maureen on the edge of the bed. He shyly draped an arm around her shoulders and placed a hand on her knee.

"It's okay," she shrugged uncomfortably.

"How did you get a hold of it, though?"

"The mattress was lumpy and when I looked to see what was there, it was that stuff."

Mark hugged her and kissed the top of her head. "Why didn't I believe you?"

"I don't know… it's okay. Don't worry," she replied, shaking her head. "It's all good," she giggled.

"Should we go take that shower?" Mark asked, grinning. "I'll make it up to you."

"Sure."

Mark pulled her up from the bed and led Maureen to the bathroom when they heard Roger call from his bedroom.

"Be quiet this time!"

-----------------

__

"Finally!"

"Sorry," Roger laughed. "I should have called you before."

__

"Yes you should have," Roger's mother laughed. _"What have you been doing?"_

"Oh, you know… the usual."

__

"That doesn't say much. Come on, dish!"

Roger laughed at his mother's choice of words. They had always been very close since they were near in age. She had him when she was 16, so they had been through a lot together. They didn't talk on the phone very often, but they were still pretty close.

"April went to rehab."

A long pause followed this, but Roger knew his mother was still on the line because he could hear her breathing softly.

"Mom? Say something…"

__

"How do you feel about that?" she asked slowly. That was the first time anybody had asked Roger how he felt.

"I'm proud of her, I guess. I was kind of mad at first."

__

"Why?"

"When I came back, she was gone. She didn't even tell me."

__

"Came back from where?"

Shit. "I was just hanging out with the band for a little while."

__

"That's weird. She left while you were visiting friends?"

"Well, I was gone for a while. Like, a week."

__

"Roger, what's going on?"

Roger sighed. He figured he'd have to tell her sooner or later.

"April found out that she got AIDS, and since I'm the only person she's been with for a while, I probably do, too."

Miss Davis gasped.

"There's more— Mom, don't cry," he pleaded, hearing her sniffling on the other line. "I kind of proposed to April and we got married at the courthouse. Then she told me that she wanted to go to rehab and I ran away for a long time. Then I came back and she was gone."

__

"Roger…"

"I know. I'm sorry, I am. I'm so sorry. I'm fucking everything up and I hate myself for it, I really do. I want to get better."

__

"Will you go to rehab?"

"I… I can't."

__

"Why not?"

"I don't know. I don't want to. I can't do it."

__

"Please Roger, for me."

"I don't need twelve steps. I want to do this on my own."

__

"Is that safe?"

"It's gotta be. I'm trying to stop."

__

"I don't know…"

"I do. I need to do it myself. I'm not helpless."

__

"I know you're not," she gave a small laugh. _"I just worry about you."_

"I'll be fine, I will. I'm strong like you. I can handle anything." He paused. "I'm so sorry."

__

"Don't be. Well, yeah, be sorry. I just, I can't believe this is actually happening to us."

"I know. I love you. I never wanted this to happen. I was supposed to be a good son."

__

"You are. You just made a few mistakes," she sniffed. _"We all do."_

"Don't cry, Mommy," he sang. "I should write a song for you."

She gave a watery laugh. _"Maybe. I'm sorry I'm not there for you."_

"It's okay, we all have our stuff," Roger shrugged. 

__

"So I have a daughter-in-law?" Miss Davis asked, as if just registering it for the first time.

"You do. Don't be mad. I didn't even tell Mark about it."

__

"Then who was your witness?"

Roger wrinkled his nose. "Maureen."

__

"The snotty girl?"

"Yeah. I hate her, I really do."

__

"Don't say that."

"It's true! She's a bitch."

__

"Oh, Roger, sweetie, hold on a sec. There's somebody on the other line."

"Sure."

Roger listened as his mother clicked over to the other line and tapped his fingers along the ground. He was leaning against the side of his bed, staring out the cardboard-covered window. He was such an idiot. At least his mother took it better than he though she would.

__

"Roger? It's your grandma. I have to go and get yelled at. I love you."

"Love you, too. I'll talk to you soon, I promise."

__

"You'd better. Be careful. Bye."

"Bye." Roger clicked off the cordless phone and tossed it on his bed.

He didn't need twelve steps.

-----------------

"What time is it now?"

"It's still one forty-seven, Mark."

"Well where is she?" Mark fumed, standing up from the chair. Collins shrugged and forced himself to keep his eyes open.

"When did she leave?"

"I dropped her off at rehearsal at two and she hasn't been home since," Mark replied, busying himself in the kitchen.

Collins yawned and nodded. 

"You don't have to stay up," Mark shrugged, blinking tears back. This is what he had been driven to. He was sick of waiting.

"It's all right," Collins replied, yawning louder this time. "I've got nothing else to do anyway."

"You could sleep," Mark suggested. Any attempts at getting Maureen off his mind were futile; why did he keep trying?

Collins shook his head. "I don't want you to wait alone."

"Thanks." Mark wandered back into the living room and plopped back down into the chair. "I don't know what to do."

"About what?" Collins asked. "Maureen?"

"Yeah. I'm sick of her doing this all the time. I can't deal with it anymore."

"Maybe you two should take a break. You seem to want different things."

Mark stared off into space, contemplating the stupidity of Collins' suggestion. Of course they wanted the same thing. They loved each other, that was enough.

"We don't need a break. We're fine," he reassured his friend.

"Then why are you waiting up for her at two in the morning?"

Mark shrugged and lowered his eyes to the bottom of the door. He stared at the crack of dim light coming through the space between the door and the ground for several minutes, mentally screaming at the top of his lungs. He heard snores coming from his right and concluded that Collins was asleep. 

His eyes shifted to the sleeping professor. He didn't know what he was talking about. He was usually a great advice-giver, but clearly his drowsiness got in the way this time. Maureen was perfect for him, and he was perfect for her. They were just what each other needed.

Without any warning, the loft door swung open and Maureen came in, stumbling slightly. Collins awoke with a start. She tossed her coat in the closet and shook off her shoes.

"Hey," she greeted Mark and Collins, flopping down onto the couch next to Collins.

"Hey Mo," Collins replied. His role was to keep the situation calm. It always was.

"What's up?" she giggled, tucking her feet underneath her and shivering slightly.

"I should ask you the same," Mark shrugged, still staring at the door. "Where have you been?"

Maureen looked up into Mark's face. A look of confusion, fear, and slight anger graced his usually innocent face.

"It doesn't matter, I'm here now." She smiled and shrugged. The light caught on the locket that Mark had given her for her birthday and he frowned.

"It _does_ matter," Mark insisted. "It's two in the morning, Maureen!"

"Pookie," she interrupted him. "Don't be mad."

"Don't be mad? Where the hell have you been?" Mark asked, his face now turning red. Maureen shrugged and stood up, making her way over to Mark.

"Mo…" Collins protested, trying to pull her back by her shirt. She shrugged him off and sat on the arm of Mark's chair. Mark was currently fuming in his seat, his arms crossed over his chest. Maureen rested a hand on his arm and placed the other one on the back of his head, turning his face to her. 

"It's okay, Mark. It's fine."

Mark sighed silently. He wanted to believe her, he did. He just didn't want to be waiting around for her while she went gallivanting around the city.

"No it isn't," Mark forced out. He so badly wanted to give in and hug her and have everything back to normal, but decided to stand his ground for once. 

Mark stood up quickly and walked to his bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Maureen slid into the chair, her legs hanging over one of the arms.

"You okay?" Collins asked after a few moments.

"Yeah," she shrugged.

"All right. I'm going to go to bed," Collins replied, standing up slowly, his eyes drooping. He kissed Maureen on the forehead and disappeared into his bedroom.

Maureen stretched her arms over her head and hopped off the chair, wandering over to her and Mark's room. She opened the door and grabbed her pyjamas. She could feel his eyes following her from the bed as she did this.

"I'm going to take a shower," she told Mark, walking back out of the room. Mark watched her leave and frowned.

He wished he knew what was going on inside her head that made her think it was all right to come in at two in the morning and expect him to think nothing was out of the ordinary. It wasn't an unusual occurrence for her to go clubbing alone, though. She knew Mark wasn't into that kind of thing; he was more of a homebody. He knew she'd be dancing with other guys, but it didn't bother him. He trusted her. Even so, it was unnerving to have her coming home so late like nothing was wrong.

About twenty minutes later, Mark heard Maureen come back into the room, the strong scent of oranges wafting in after her. She always smelled good. He kept his eyes shut because he was far too tired to open them up, anyway. He listened as she put away her clothes and slid into bed next to him.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Huh?"

"Aren't we fighting?"

"I'm not going to sleep on the couch," Maureen told him.

"So you're going to sleep in here?"

"Where else would I?"

"I don't know."

"Because I'm not sleeping on the couch."

"Well, neither am I."

"Okay. Because I'm not."

"Fine, I heard you."

"Fine."

"Fine. Night."

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Review! =)


	21. Chapter 21

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Chapter 21

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A/N: Once again, I thank Mari for reviewing and actually enjoying this story! And just a question: Is anybody else actually reading this story…?

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Maureen watched Mark's chest rise and fall steadily as he slept obliviously beside her. He didn't put up much of a fight the night before about her sleeping in his bed, and she figured it was just how passive he was. He'd do almost anything to avoid conflict. 

She didn't want Mark to be mad at her. She kept telling herself that she didn't love Mark, that she wanted to be with Joanne. But if she wanted to be with Joanne, why wasn't she with her yesterday? Instead, she went bar hopping and clubbing and met several very nice people, and had several flings. But Maureen didn't want Mark to be mad at her. She didn't know why, but she didn't want him to think anything negatively of her. She cared about his opinion of her, and she usually didn't care what people thought.

She slid out of the bed carefully so as not to wake Mark and walked into the loft, shutting the door behind her. She saw Benny gathering his things together in the living room as she wandered into the kitchen.

"Morning," she greeting him, searching for a mug.

"Hey. How are you?"

"Okay, I guess."

Benny grunted in response.

"See you tonight? We should all go and do something. I haven't done anything in a while and since tomorrow's the weekend, the world is my oyster."

"Loser," Maureen laughed. "Is it Friday?"

"Yeah," Benny replied, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "Maybe we should go to a bar? I don't know."

"Me and Mark are going to Scarsdale. Sorry," she shrugged.

"Oh. Fine!" He pretended to be mad and swung the door open. "See you later," he grinned, shutting it behind him.

Maureen sat down at the island and crossed her ankles over each other. If today was Friday, that meant it was also their anniversary. And if they were going to visit Mark's parents today, they shouldn't be fighting. Maureen took a sip from her coffee and decided that she needed to reconcile her relationship with Mark, at least for the time being. She could make breakfast for Mark as a peace offering and to act as a makeshift anniversary gift. That's what she'd do. She placed her mug on the island and got up from her seat. She dug through the refrigerator to find something she could use.

After several minutes of struggling with food, Maureen decided that she would never be a chef and that this meal would be fine. She found a tray in the cupboard below the sink and placed everything on it, along with a small piece of paper that read 'Sorry.'

Maureen took the tray back into the bedroom and placed it next to Mark on the bed. She shook him gently and patted his cheek.

"Mark, get up."

Mark grimaced and looked up at Maureen, who was biting her lip.

"Morning," she smiled weakly. "Happy anniversary."

Mark looked over at the breakfast set out beside him and back to Maureen.

"Happy anniversary."

"Sorry about before," she shrugged meaningfully. "Forgive me?"

Mark took another look at the tray, then at Maureen, and nodded. "Yeah," he smiled. "Forget about it." He kissed her, but pulled away quickly, moving across the bed to the dresser. He dug through the top drawer and pulled out the video he had made earlier.

"This is for you." He handed her the tape and smiled. "It's not much, but…" he trailed off.

Maureen snatched it out of his hands, and her face lit up immediately. "Thank you. It's wonderful."

"You don't even know what it is," Mark laughed.

"I know. But I love it."

Mark picked up a piece of toast, looked down at it, and tossed it at Maureen, laughing. 

__

We're fine.

-----------------

Roger stared down at the plastic bag he had been staring at for the last several days. It killed him inside to know that he hadn't used it yet. It was physically and emotionally painful for him. He was always uncomfortable, sweating, freezing, shivering, and boiling hot. He kept to himself, spending most of his time in his bedroom. The only times he had gone out into the loft were to shower, use the washroom, and even eat with the group once or twice. He knew that he had a lot to think about. He knew that both his mother and his wife wanted him to attend rehab to get better, but he also knew that he needed to do it himself. He was strong enough to do it alone. He wanted to show everybody that he didn't need them and that he could get by on his own. He was independent. 

Roger dropped the object in his hand on to the mattress and got up off his bed. He pulled the piece of cardboard covering his window back and looked down out onto the street. It was cold and grey out, and even just by standing at the window, Roger felt chills. He reached over and picked up the needle and drugs from the bed and clutching them tightly in his hand, turned back to the window. He wanted to do this, didn't he?

He opened the makeshift window wider and peered out. Shuffling his feet on the ground, he shut his eyes tightly and flung the objects out the window.

There, he did it. It was done. There was nothing more like that in his possession and he was free to move on. He knew he had another hurdle to pass, but once he did that April would be back and everything would be normal again. 

Though he would never admit it to anybody for fear of severe mocking, he missed April with all his heart. He knew that they hadn't been together for very long, but he knew that this was it. He knew she felt the same way, too. At least, he hoped she still did. He acted irrationally sometimes, but he couldn't help it. He did things without thinking, and usually ended up regretting his decisions later. He regretted most of the decisions he had made in the past, except for one. Marrying April. It was the one thing in his life that honestly felt right. It didn't feel forced by anybody or like he was the token failure out of his friends. He finally had something to be proud of and something that he could call his own, and the only way to keep calling it his own would be to give up drugs.

Roger ran his fingers through his hair, which was slightly longer than it had been for a while, and rubbed his clammy hands on his plaid flannel clad legs. The sudden rush of pain that he had become accustomed to filled him again and he flopped backwards onto his bed, bracing himself for the uncomfortable feelings yet to come.

-----------------

"Okay, so let's go over the rules again."

Maureen sighed. "I won't talk about politics, not being Jewish, or the weather."

"Good," Mark told her as they walked hand-in-hand up the pathway to the Cohen house. "And?"

"I didn't even _bring_ leather pants, I swear."

"Good," he laughed. "Ready?" he asked, rapping on the door. Maureen raised her eyebrows and she unconsciously clutched Mark's hand tighter. They were greeted quickly when the door slowly opened to reveal Mr. Cohen.

"Hey dad," Mark greeted.

"Mark," he replied. "And you are Maureen, I presume?"

"Yeah," she smiled, a hint of nervousness hiding behind it.

"Oh, Dad, Maureen. Maureen, Dad."

"It's a pleasure," Mr. Cohen laughed, opening the door wider so the two could easily enter. "You guys are here late. Your mother's asleep."

"Yeah, well…" Mark shrugged, taking Maureen's coat from her. 

"Would you two like anything to eat or drink before bed?"

Maureen giggled and shook her head.

"No thanks," Mark replied, picking up his duffel bag and Maureen's backpack from the ground. "Maybe we'll just hit the sack."

"I think I'll do the same," Mr. Cohen nodded.

"Night, dad."

"Night, sir."

"Please, call me Jacob," he laughed.

"Night Jacob," Maureen giggled as Mark led her down the hallway and up the stairs.

"He's nice," Maureen whispered.

Mark smiled. "I guess so. That was really not like you. You seemed kind of shy." Maureen shrugged.

Things had been a bit awkward between them since their fight the night before. Even though they had made up, Maureen didn't want to do anything to get Mark mad, and Mark didn't want to do anything that would put Maureen in the position to feel bad. They had spent the afternoon in the park, laughing and joking about very light-hearted topics, both of them shifting away from anything deeper than that. They had even felt too uncomfortable watching the video Mark made for Maureen.

They entered his dark bedroom, and Mark shut the door before flipping the lights on. Maureen laughed quietly and flopped down onto his bed.

"You're such a geek!" she whispered.

"Am not," Mark replied.

"You're so… tidy," she giggled. She turned over onto her stomach and studied the bookshelves by the wall across from the bed. 

"You're just a slob. I'll take the floor if you want," Mark suggested, unrolling the sleeping bag he assumed his mother put in there.

"Doesn't matter. The floor _is_ supposed to be better for your back," she persuaded. "And besides, I call the bed. Stamped it, no erasies."

"No erasies, eh?" he laughed, raising an eyebrow. He tossed Maureen's bag at her. "Go get changed. The bathroom's two doors down."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "Okay." Mark watched her get up off the bed and leave the room. He felt like he had been painted into a corner with his relationship with Maureen. They had been doing fine for such a long time, but she had become increasingly distant. Whenever he thought about it, though, almost as if on cue, their relationship would get back on track and be fine. But when Mark ignored the nagging voice in the back of his head reminding him of the tension that once existed, they would have a fight and they'd be back at the beginning of the vicious cycle.

Maureen crept back though the door in her pyjamas, her hair swept up into a messy bun. She dropped her bag by the dresser and hopped on the bed.

"You gonna go to sleep?" Mark asked. She nodded and crawled under the covers. "Me too. Night." He flicked off the light switch.

"Sweet dreams," she whispered. She lay awake for the next several minutes, not being able to fall asleep. She heard Jacob wander up the stairs and into his bedroom, and the general creaks of the old house. She heard Mark sniff from his spot on the foot of the bed, and she pushed herself up a bit on her elbows.

"Mark? You awake?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Oh," she replied, falling silent again. "I'm sorry about last night."

"I know."

"I really am."

"Okay."

"Don't get like that. I just lost track of the time."

"I know, it's okay. It is," Mark replied. He wanted to believe her so badly. 

"You promise?"

"Yeah. Don't worry about it." More silence.

"Come here," Maureen told him, moving over in the small bed.

"Huh?" he replied groggily.

"Come on. The floor's probably not that comfortable anyway."

Mark grunted and stood up, making his way over to the bed. He got under the covers and pulled Maureen close so that they both had enough room on the bed. She snuggled in closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder.

"That's better, right?" she asked, smiling.

"Yeah, it is. Love you."

Maureen looked up at Mark, still smiling, and kissed him.


	22. Chapter 22

****

Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews, guys. I was just wondering if people were reading.

CHAPTER 22

Collins knocked gently on Roger's bedroom door, holding a bowl of soup in his free hand.

"Rog? Are you hungry for some lunch?"

He heard Roger plucking out random notes on his guitar from inside and asked again, louder this time.

"Roger? Do you want something to eat?"

__

Thud. Roger had thrown something at the door.

"Is that a no?" he asked meekly.

"No!" Roger yelled angrily in response. Collins took a step back and shook his head. He knew people got angry and bad tempered when they were going through withdrawal, but he didn't realize that it would hit Roger so hard already. He had been yelling all night about how Benny was snoring, and had even threatened to strangle him in his sleep. Needless to say, Benny, who was scared out of his mind, slept with one eye open that night.

Collins placed the bowl of soup on the island and listened to the muffled tune of a song coming from inside Roger's bedroom. He hadn't heard it before, it must be a new one. Collins walked over to his bedroom and stood in the doorway, looking at the empty void that once served as his sanctuary. He had managed to pack up most of his belongings in a couple suitcases and a duffel bag, but had left the large pieces of furniture and a couple knickknacks that he had no use for at MIT. 

He sat down on the edge of the bed and sighed. He was still unsure about leaving New York University for MIT. He knew that it was an amazing opportunity and that it was the chance of a lifetime, but he was worried about leaving New York City, where he had lived for as long as he could remember, to pursue his career. It was important to him, but his friends and family were more so. Of course, he would keep in touch with them through phone calls and letters, but it wasn't the same as being there for them. Of course, he would meet people once he got to MIT. He'd make new friends and he wouldn't be alone, that was sure. 

Collins was broken out of his trance-like state when he heard Benny knocking on the door.

"Earth to Collins," he laughed, sitting down next to his friend.

"What's up?"

Benny shrugged. "Just wanted to see what was going on." He glanced around the room. "You're all packed?"

"Yeah," Collins replied quietly, looking down at his feet.

"I'm gonna miss you," he laughed. "You're like a father to me. Except a lot more fun. And not married to my mother."

Collins smiled at this. "Yeah. I'll miss you guys, too, but I mean I'll call and I'll visit. It's not like I'm falling off the face of the earth or something."

"I know. It's just like the end to an era." Benny stared out the door into the kitchen.

"Maybe. I'm still going to be around. Just further away. I'll come here for visits, too, and I'll call. Everything will work out." Collins found he was trying to convince himself more than Benny. He noticed his friend's far-off gaze. "Are you okay?"

"Sure, oh yeah," Benny shrugged. "I was just thinking about stuff."

"What kind of stuff? Mimi stuff?"

"How'd you know?" he smirked. "Yeah. I'm just confused about everything. I think I miss her."

"You think?" Collins asked, laughing a bit. Benny shoved him in the shoulder and nodded. He leaned back on his elbows and stared up at the white ceiling.

"I can't stop thinking about her sometimes, and I feel guilty for doing that to her. She was pretty mad when she left before."

"Call her."

"What?"

"Call her. Call her up and tell her that you want to try again." Benny looked skeptical. "What's the worst that could happen? She'll say no and you'll both get over it." Collins wanted to help him. He wanted Benny to find love if he could. He didn't want him to be alone.

"I don't know if I can do that…"

"Well, do what you feel is best. But if I were you I'd seize the moment and tell her how I feel."

"Oh…" Benny trailed off, his eyes drifting over to the empty dresser.

"Hey, do you want to go grab some Chinese food or something? I really want some spring rolls."

"Sure," Benny nodded. "I have nothing else to do, anyway." He didn't have any work to do since he only had a small job at the law firm. He was just an assistant or 'gopher' of sorts. It wasn't challenging, but he wanted some experience before moving on to bigger things. He had run into Mr. Grey, the group's landlord a few months ago in the hallway of their building. That was a rare occurrence since he owned several buildings and this one was without a doubt on the bottom of his list of priorities. Benny had stopped him to ask about the loft's faulty heating, and through a long conversation he had told Benny about his needing some help. He had basically offered a job to Benny there on the spot, but he wasn't sure if that's what he wanted to get into. He told Mr. Grey that he would get back to him, but he hadn't yet.

Collins and Benny went back out into the living room, and as Collins put his coat and scarf on, Benny walked over to Roger's bedroom and knocked on the door.

"Rog, we're gonna go pick up some takeout. Do you want us to bring you any home?"

Roger grunted.

"Is that a yes?"

Gentle guitar strumming from inside his bedroom.

"Okay, well we're gonna go. We'll be back in a bit, I guess."

__

Thud.

-----------------

Roger leaned back onto the headboard, his guitar in his lap. He waited until he heard Benny shut the door and pushed his Fender off of him. He wished everybody would go away. No, he didn't want food. He wanted to be left alone.

He picked Lola up and placed 'her' gently on the floor. He stretched out over the covers and placed his hands behind his head. The pang of sadness that had been pulling at him for the last little while returned with full force, and he had no choice but to let his mind drift into thoughts of April until he fell asleep.

-----------------

Mark pulled out a chair at the kitchen table for Maureen and she plopped down in it, Mark sitting down next to her.

"Where's your mom?"

"I don't know," he shrugged. "It's almost lunch, though, so she'll probably be home soon. She won't want us to go hungry."

"Oh," Maureen sighed. "That was a good sleep." She leaned into Mark.

"Yeah," Mark replied, rubbing her back slowly. "You want something to eat?" he asked her as he stood up and moved over to the refrigerator. He pulled it open and looked over at Maureen who was shaking her head.

"No thanks," they said in unison. Maureen looked up to Mark and stuck her tongue out at him.

"You're never hungry," he replied, pulling milk out of the fridge. He proceeded to search through cupboards for some cereal that wasn't bran-based. Maureen shrugged and laced her fingers together on top of the table.

"Oh well."

"Like, not for anything. I don't think I've even _seen_ you eat in the last week."

"Why do you care?" she asked. "I'm obviously fine."

"Maybe. It's still weird."

"Thanks," she replied sarcastically. "Now I'm weird?"

"I didn't say that—" Mark started.

"Fine! God, it's not like it's even any of your business in the first place!"

"Of course it's my business!" Mark shot back, putting his bowl of cereal on the table.

"Just shut up, okay?" she yelled a little too loudly. She immediately quieted down, buy still spoke harshly. "Why are we even talking about this? It doesn't matter," she told him as she rubbed her temples with her hand. 

Mark gave a half-hearted shrug and started in on his cereal. Maureen watched him dismiss the topic and rolled her eyes. 

They sat like that for several minutes in silence as Mark ate his breakfast and Maureen tapped her fingernails along the tabletop, making sure she looked both bored and mad. Mark eventually got up to rinse out his bowl and place it in the dishwasher.

"Gramma! Hug!"

Both Maureen and Mark looked up when they heard the front door open and a small voice yell. Maureen looked over to Mark at the counter with questioning eyes and he shook his head.

"Cindy," he said to himself, deadpan as he turned off the taps. "Leave it to her to make this a big affair."

Cathy pattered into the kitchen, clad in a red plaid jumper with a white blouse on underneath. Her blonde hair was gathered into a ponytail at the back of her head held together by red baubles. When she saw Mark and Maureen, she took a small step away from them and retreated back by the door frame, her lower lip beginning to tremble.

"Cathy," Mark sighed, putting his bowl in the dishwasher. "Why don't you like me?"

Maureen laughed and stood up, scooping Cathy off the ground. 

"Hi, sweetie," she grinned. "You're pretty!"

Cathy still looked unsure, but relaxed a bit in Maureen's arms. Cindy appeared in the doorway grinning stupidly at Mark.

"Hi Marky. You must be Maureen. I'm Cindy, his sister."

"Hey," Maureen greeted her, smiling. "I believe this is yours?" She passed Cathy to her mother and sat back down at the table. Mark sat adjacent from her and Cindy beside him with Cathy on her lap.

"Where're Mike and Jamie?" Mark asked as he watched Cathy glance suspiciously at him.

"Michael took Jamie to swimming at the community centre. That kid is a fish, I swear. Where did mom and dad go?"

Mark shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest. "How are you and the fetus?"

"Idiot," Cindy scoffed, struggling to pull Cathy's hands out of her hair.

"Can I hold her?" Maureen asked. "She's so cute."

"Not when she's crying and pooping herself silly," she laughed, passing the toddler carefully over the table. Maureen placed Cathy on her lap and bounced her on her knee, holding her gently.

"We're all right, though," Cindy continued, keeping an eye on Cathy as she blathered in baby-talk. "My morning sickness isn't as bad as when I had those two. It's still uncomfortable, I guess."

"Oh," Mark replied, obviously uninterested. He placed his hands on the wooden tabletop and pushed his chair back. "I'm going to go and get changed," he told them, leaving the kitchen quickly. Cindy's eyes followed him as he left the room.

"Is he okay?" she asked Maureen. She looked up from Cathy and nodded.

"Probably."

"What do you mean?" she asked, getting up from her seat and poking through the refrigerator for something to drink.

"Oh, you know men," Maureen laughed, playing with Cathy's hair.

"I hear you," Cindy sympathized, pulling a jug of orange juice out of the fridge and pouring herself a glass. "Do you want any?"

"Sure," Maureen nodded. "Thanks."

Cindy handed her a glass and sat back down.

"So, Maureen, tell me about yourself," she smiled, tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder.

"Well, I grew up in Hicksville," she wrinkled her nose. "I'm twenty-two, and actually I'm playing Cecily in _The Importance of Being Earnest_ right now."

"Oh, wow," Cindy smiled. "That sounds like a lot of fun!"

The women continued to chat, eventually joined again by Mark. He suggested that Maureen go and get changed, too, since their rental car had to be back in the city by five. She did, and the four moved into the basement family room where Cindy suggested watching old home videos.

"No…" Mark whined, laughing.

"Yeah!" Maureen exclaimed, "Come on, Pookie!" she laughed, tackling him on the L-shaped couch.

"Yeah, Pookie, come on!" Cindy mocked him, sliding a tape into the VCR.

"Pookie!" Cathy giggled loudly from the floor. She picked up her doll and shook it up and down. "Pookie!"

"Now look what you've done," Mark jokingly scolded Maureen. She stuck her tongue out at him and rested her head on his shoulder. Sitting down on the couch, Cindy pressed 'play' on the remote control. Cathy crawled up onto the couch and forced her way between Cindy and Maureen, carefully placing her doll in her lap and latching onto Maureen's arm with her pudgy fingers. 

"She's so cute," Maureen whispered to Mark. He draped his arm around her shoulders and laughed, shaking his head.

"Shut up," he whispered, pointing to the television screen. "You're missing my first steps." Mark watched Maureen and she turned her attention back to the video and kissed the top of her head.

Several home movies later, Cathy was asleep, leaning against Maureen and holding Cindy's hand. Cindy flipped off the video and muted the television, then picked Cathy up carefully.

"I'm going to go put her upstairs," she whispered. Mark and Maureen nodded as Cindy walked up the stairs, Cathy stirring slightly and whining.

"You okay?" Mark asked, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. Maureen nodded and looked over at him.

"Yeah. I like your family," she smiled.

"You haven't met my mother yet," Mark laughed.

Maureen shrugged. "I'll like her," _more than mine_.

Cindy came down the stairs and plopped back down on the couch quickly, flipping the tape back on.

"I just sat the Toilet pull in. She won't make us help with groceries or whatever if we're watching home videos."

"The Toilet?" Maureen asked, confused.

"Nah, she'll probably get all caught up in it and start to cry," Mark laughed. 

"Exactly," Cindy replied, putting her feet up on the coffee table. They heard the front door open and Mr. and Mrs. Cohen's voices float into the basement from upstairs.

"Mark?" Mrs. Cohen called.

"Down here!" he called back, removing his arm from Maureen's shoulders. Mrs. Cohen came down the stairs quickly to greet her son.

"Mark!" she cried, opening her arms. Mark walked over to her and let himself be enveloped in a big hug. "I hope you're going to make this a regular occurrence."

"We'll see," Mark laughed, pulling Maureen up from the couch. "This is Maureen, mom." He gently nudged her forward and Maureen stuck out her hand for a hand shake and smiled.

"Hello sweetheart," she greeted her primly, giving a small smile before calling back up the stairs, ignoring Maureen's offer completely. "Jacob, bring the doughnuts down here for the kids! Oh, Cindy, get your feet off the table."

"Hey, I'm putting my feet up for two now," she rationalized. Mrs. Cohen kissed her daughter's head and sat down on a chair near the television.

"Oh, Cindy's twelfth birthday," she sighed, gazing at the television. "Your hair was even light then," she pointed out.

"So was Mark's," Cindy nodded in agreement. "How we got blonde hair from two brunette parents is beyond me," she laughed.

Mark opened his mouth to say something, but before he could his mother cut him off, pointing at him.

"Mark Isaac Cohen, do not imply that again, young man." She shook her head and continued talking to Cindy.

"Sorry," he laughed, burying his face in Maureen's shoulder. She giggled and rested her head on Mark's.

"What?" she asked.

"I always tell Cindy she was adopted. Then my mom doesn't let me have dessert." Mark looked up when he heard his father coming down the stairs. He carried a box in his hands, and set it down on the coffee table.

"Hi Daddy," Cindy greeted him.

"Hi sweetie," he smiled. "Mark, Maureen. Feet off the table, please." Cindy grudgingly removed them and peeked in the box.

"Can I have one?"

Mark proceeded to make pig sounds from his side of the couch. Maureen hit him in the chest, stifling a laugh, and Mr. Cohen chuckled. Mrs. Cohen was too engrossed in the video to notice.

"Mark," he chided. "Of course, Cindy." 

"I'm eating for two," she told her brother, sliding the box over to him and Maureen. Mark picked up a doughnut and pushed the box over to his father.

"Aren't you going to offer one to Maureen?" he asked, startled. Mark shrugged and pushed his glasses up on his face. Maureen took out a doughnut and took a bite out of it, grinning at Mark.

-----------------

The telephone rang in the empty loft, echoing slightly along with Roger's deep snores. After two rings, the familiar greeting of the answering machine picked up the phone call.

__

"You know what to do."

__

"Guys? Roger, are you there?" It was April, and she was whispering._ "Um, I'm not supposed to call anyone, but if you're there pick up. God… I'm so scared. I don't want to do this anymore, don't make me,"_ she sobbed. _"Fuck, pick up. I can't do it."_

Click.


	23. Chapter 23

****

Author's Note: Sorry about the delay, and I hope this doesn't suck. Enjoy and please review! =)

CHAPTER 23

Roger jolted awake when he heard the front door slam. He groaned and shut his eyes tighter, rolling over onto his stomach so that he could bury his face in his pillow. He heard several murmurs coming from the next room, and within seconds, someone was knocking gently on Roger's door.

"Roger?" Mark asked. Roger winced as the door creaked open and he held his breath, as if that would drown out the sound and make him disappear into the blankets.

"Rog, we need you out there." Mark shook his friend gently.

"What?" he grunted, his response muffled by the pillow. Mark latched onto his arm and gently tried to tug him of bed.

"Come on, this is important."

"What the fuck are you doing Mark?" Roger asked, yanking his arm out of Mark's grasp.

"It's April," Mark told him with a worried expression on his face. Roger immediately shot up and pushed past Mark into the loft.

"Is she back?" he asked, looking back at Mark. He sighed and shrugged, shaking his head. Roger looked into the living room and saw Collins, Benny, and Maureen sitting on the couch, looking up at him.

"Where is she?" Collins and Benny shifted uncomfortably in their seats and Maureen looked over to the answering machine.

"She left a message."

"Subtle, Mo," Mark chided her, leaning against Roger's door frame.

"Well she did!" she defended herself. "What are we supposed to do, dance around it and make him guess?"

"No, I just don't think—"

"That's right. You don't think."

"Guys, shut up," Collins ordered them. Maureen rolled her eyes and turned her attention to her cuticles, and Mark crossed his arms over his chest. Collins went over to Roger, who was currently getting frustrated as he fumbled with the answering machine. He helped him out and once again, April's sobbing voice filled the loft.

"What the fuck was that? When did she call?" Roger asked, turning back to his friends.

Benny shrugged. "We were all out."

"Is she okay?"

"We know as much as you do," Collins told him, sitting his friend down in the chair by the couch. Roger stood back up so that he could be eye-level with Collins.

"You didn't call back?"

"We can't, Rog. Places like that won't let you talk to the patients. They won't even tell you if they're there. Confidentiality stuff."

"Of course she's there!" Roger fumed. "She just called! She wants to come home! Why won't they let her come back?" His voice broke off and he wandered aimlessly over to the large industrial window opposite from his bedroom.

"I'm sure she's fine," Benny tried.

"Yeah, just homesick," Collins suggested. "She probably just misses you."

"Then they should let her come home!"

"Don't worry, she'll be okay."

"Y-you shut up, Benny! This has nothing to do with you."

"He's right, though," Collins told Roger, sitting back down on the couch. "She's getting better. She wanted this."

"I'm going to call back," Roger stated. He picked up the cordless phone and huddled in a corner of the room, beginning to fumble with the telephone. 

Collins sighed and sat down on the chair, and Mark followed suit and sat on the couch next to Maureen. Collins began speaking in a low voice, so low that even Benny, who was sitting next to him, could hear. They proceeded to murmur about the situation at hand, but since he couldn't hear, Mark turned to Maureen and furrowed his eyebrows.

"What was all that about before?"

"What was all what about?" she asked, focusing her attention on her fingernails again.

"You know what I mean."  


"You making me look like an idiot?" she asked, looking up into Mark's face.

"I didn't make you look like and idiot! You were just—"

"I was just what? Trying to be helpful?" she whispered harshly. "Or is it just that I can't do anything right?"

"What? I never said that. Mo, don't be mad."

"I'm not," she reassured him, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms.

"I'm sorry," he told her, resting a hand on her back. How was it that he always ended up apologizing for things he knew weren't his fault?

"It's okay, Pookie." She patted his knee gently and retreated back into the couch. Mark noticed her sudden reclusion and shifted over further away from her, leaning on the arm of the couch.

"Fuck!" Roger yelled, punching the wall in front of him. Collins immediately rushed over to his side and moved him over to a seat.

"Rog, relax, please."

Roger rested his head in his hand and sighed. How did Collins expect him to relax at a time like this?

"What… how am I supposed to take this?" Roger asked quietly, shutting his eyes and sighing.

"She told me before she left that she really wanted to get better and she wanted you to, too."

Roger looked up when Mark said that.

"What?"

"She wrote us a note," Mark said casually, walking into the kitchen. He had forgotten about it until now.

"What?" Roger repeated.

Mark felt around on top of the fridge and when he found what he was looking for, placed it on the island and sat down on a stool.

"She wrote us a letter and told me to read it when everybody was here."

"Is that it?" Roger asked, moving towards Mark. Mark picked up the envelope and nodded.

"Yep." He carefully tore it open and pulled the letter out. "Want me to read it?"

"No, Mark, I don't," Roger replied sarcastically. He leaned onto the island and watched Mark closely as he unfolded the letter.

"'Dear Roger, Collins, Maureen, Mark, and Benny,'" he began.

"'Thank you for all your help in the last little while. I'm sorry if it has seemed like I've come barrelling into your lives and messing everything up for you, but you have really helped me through a lot and helped me make some important decisions. So thank you and sorry, and I promise I'll make it up to you all eventually.'" Mark cleared his throat and looked up at his friends. They were staring back at him.

"Don't look at me! God, I hate public speaking."

"There are only four of us…" Benny reminded him.

"Shut up, it's public enough. Stop it!" he whined at Maureen and Collins who were purposely staring at him like the Children of the Corn. "You're creeping me out."

"Just keep going," Roger told him gruffly.

"Sorry. Okay… 'Roger, I love you.' Oh, I don't love you, she does."

Roger rolled his eyes. "I figured."

"'If you're reading this letter, that means you're home and safe. At least, I hope you are. I'm sorry I left so quickly, but I needed to do this before I changed my mind – not because I didn't want to do this with you. I want you to turn yourself around – not for me, not for your friends, but for yourself. I left you money if you change your mind about rehab, and I really hope you will. Do what you see fit, but please at least consider it before you make a decision. I love you and I have never stopped, even through everything you've put me through lately. I miss you and I hope you come home soon.'" Mark quickly looked up at his friends to make sure they weren't looking at him, and returned quickly to the letter.

"'Collins, thank you for being the shoulder for me to cry on… literally. You are an absolutely wonderful person and I can only wish the best for you over the next little while. Maureen, thank you, too, for helping me through everything in the beginning. I hope it's okay that I call you my friend.'" Maureen stifled a laugh at the general cheesiness of the letter and received a gentle shove from Collins. 

"'Congratulations to you and Mark on your one year anniversary. I know you guys are perfect for each other, and I'm sure and your relationship will go far.'" Mark smiled at this, and Maureen frowned and looked down at her feet.

"'Mark and Benny, I don't really know you very well, but I hope that when I come back I will get the chance to get to know you better. You seem like great people, and Roger has only ever told me good things about you.

"'All that's left to say is a big thank you to all of you, and I really am sorry. I talked to my parents, and they are holding my apartment for me. I left you a key just in case anything explodes or something. I'll be home soon and I promise I'll try to make everything right again. Love, April.'"

A silence fell over the five and they all contemplated what to do next. A small sniff came from Roger who proceeded to shut himself up in his bedroom again.

"Well that went well," Mark tried, letting the letter float from his hands onto the island.

"He'll be fine," Benny told everybody. They nodded in response and retreated back into their own thoughts.

"I'm going to try and talk to him," Collins said, standing up. He went over to Roger's room and knocked gently on the door, opening it slowly. He disappeared into the bedroom and just the three were left. As Mark sat down on the chair, Maureen stood up slowly and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I think I'm going to go out."

"Of course you are," Mark scowled.

Maureen turned to Mark and narrowed her eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Where are you going to go?" he asked, looking up at her. She shrugged.

"I don't know. Around."

"Have fun," he shrugged, trying to hide his anger. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back into the chair.

"I will," she told him defiantly as she put her coat on. She left the loft and slammed the door behind her.

"She's just overreacting," Benny told his friend after a short pause.

"Story of my life."

***

"How are you holding up?" Collins asked Roger, sitting on the edge of the bed. Roger sat leaning against the headboard with his guitar in his lap. He wasn't playing it, just holding it.

"All right," he sniffed. "Not crying," he reassured Collins who laughed quietly. Roger swiped at his eyes and fingered the guitar in front of him. He plucked one string. "Do you know what rehab is like?"

"Uh, no, not really," Collins shook his head. Both men looked toward the shut door when they heard the front door slam shut. "I mean, I'm sure it's hard, but the result is great, right?" Collins sat down on the edge of the bed. Roger shrugged and nodded slowly.

"Are you thinking about it?"

Roger sighed. "I don't know. I'm not helpless, I can do it on my own."

"I don't doubt it." Collins gave a small smile. "But sometimes it's easier to be around people who are going through the same thing and understand where you're coming from."

"Yeah…" There was a long silence where Roger studied his guitar and Collins stared off into space. "I miss April." 

Collins nodded. This was starting to get old hat for him.

"Just think, though. She's doing this so that she can be healthy again. She wants to come back and spend the rest of her life with you. She really loves you, you know that?"

"I guess. But we'll never be really 'healthy.' I can't believe I'm putting her through this."

"What do you mean you'll never be healthy?"

"AIDS, Collins. Where have you been?"

"What?" he asked in disbelief.

"Fuck, we have fucking AIDS. I'm such an asshole."

"Roger, calm down. How did that happen?"

"I don't know. Probably a needle. I can't believe I screwed her up, too. She had real potential, you know? She was gonna do big things… and I fucked that up. I hate my life." Roger shoved his guitar off of him and off the bed, one of the strings breaking in the process.

"Shit!" he yelled.

"Rog, relax," Collins tried quickly. "Please."

"You keep saying that – how the hell am I supposed to calm down? I've got a shitty life, I have no clue where my wife is, I'm addicted to drugs, I feel like I'm gonna hurl and I can't figure anything out!"

Collins remained silent as he thought about what to say. "Honestly," he sighed. "I can't tell you what to do because I have no clue. Coming from someone who knows, though, you're a fighter, and you can definitely deal with whatever comes your way."

"I want to know what's coming my way," Roger complained, his hand covering his face.

"I know. I know the feeling. But sometimes you just have to take a step back and think about everything before you go on. You can't tell the future, but you can prepare for it."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he asked bluntly.

"Well, I guess what I'm trying to say is that I think you're making the best choice you can by getting off drugs. No matter how you want to do it, it's gonna be great for you."

Roger mumbled something inaudible and played with the bottoms of his pant leg.

"What?"

"I'm kind of scared," Roger whispered, looking at Collins through the corner of his eye.

"Roger…" he replied quietly. "I know."

"I don't know what I'm gonna do," he sighed. He slumped over and stared down at the blankets underneath him.

"You could go to the doctor," Collins suggested gently. "That way you _can_ be healthy." 

Roger shrugged minimally but remained silent, so Collins continued. 

"I can go with you if you like, and I'm always here if you need to talk. Just don't retreat into the Roger bubble. I don't want you to go through this alone."

Roger nodded slowly, but continued to stare down at the comforter.

"Are you okay for now?"

Roger nodded again. Collins stood up from his seat at the foot of the bed and moved over to Roger, hugging him quickly before he left the room. Roger flopped back against the headboard and sighed again.

"Thanks…" he murmured.


	24. Chapter 24

CHAPTER 24

SUNDAY

Mark, Maureen, and Benny stood huddled on the street corner with Collins' luggage at their feet. Collins was currently a few feet away from them, trying to hail a cab. It was raining out, and with the absence of an umbrella the friends were also quite wet. It was Sunday and they were all headed for the train station where Collins was going to catch his train to MIT. Roger didn't want to come, scared to leave the comfort and security of the loft though he wouldn't admit it.

Collins made his way back over to the three when he had finally found a free cab, and each of them started loading his belongings into the trunk silently. They all shoved their way into the taxi, Collins, Mark, and Benny sitting in the back, and Maureen getting exiled to the front.

"Can you open up that windowy thing?" Maureen asked the driver before pulling out onto the street. He raised an eyebrow at her and opened the window in the plexi-glass separating the front and back seats.

"Sure can hot stuff."

Maureen made sure he saw her roll her eyes, then turned around in her seat and peeked through the window at the three silent men.

"He's creepy," she mouthed to them, jerking her head towards the driver. They looked over at him, stifling laughs and shaking their heads. The driver cleared loudly to signal to her that he knew what she had said.

"Don't go," she told Collins. He winced and forced a smile. 

"I'll call as soon as I get there and I'll come and visit as much as I can. It won't be so bad."

Mark looked out the rain-splattered window at the stop-and-go traffic outside, and Benny stared down at his hands. Maureen turned back so she could look out the windshield at the rain pounding down. It had started raining harder since they left. She hoped that they could take a cab home, too. She wasn't in the mood to ride the subway today. 

Maureen wanted so badly to cry. She felt like she desperately needed to, but she just couldn't. These feelings had been dominating her for the last several days, as if she needed a mental breakdown to start all over again. Many times she had tried not to blink in hopes that some tears would form, but with to no avail. She noticed that she and Mark had been quickly drifting apart, and she couldn't decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Maureen sighed and ran her fingers through her slightly damp hair and retreated back into the lumpy taxi seats.

"Here we are, gorgeous," the cab driver drawled, slowing to a halt. Maureen scoffed and slid out of the car, moving to the trunk to help with the luggage. Collins went to pay the driver, and Maureen, Mark, and Benny unloaded the trunk.

"Guys, hurry up. The train leaves soon." Collins came back and picked up a suitcase from the wet ground. He pushed through the doors of the station and disappeared inside. He had been strangely moody and despondent that morning, but everyone just chalked it up to his leaving New York.

Maureen carefully tried to lift Collins' large duffel bag out of the trunk, struggling with its weight. It must have weighed as much as she did. She felt somebody lift from the bottom, and looked up to see that it was Mark.

"I can take it if you want," he suggested shyly. He had taken off his glasses and put them in his coat pocket to shield them from the rain, so everything was blurry.

"You sure? It's heavy."

"Yeah," he nodded. Maureen caught herself staring into Mark's eyes and jerked away quickly, picking up the suitcase on the sidewalk instead. The cab driver, thoroughly frustrated with the length of time he had been stopped there, was glad when Benny finally shut the trunk, then zoomed off quickly.

"He's probably wondering where we are," he told the other two solemnly. They nodded and trudged into the train station, glancing around quickly. When the saw Collins, they made his way towards him. He was sitting on the end of a bench, his head hung low and his suitcase at his feet. They placed the others with it, and Maureen took a seat next to him.

"You get your ticket?" Mark asked. Collins shook his head slowly and sighed, looking up at Mark.

"I missed the train."

The three others tried to hide their sighs of relief and put on sympathetic faces.

"Can you catch the next one?" Benny asked, kneeling down a bit so that he was closer to eye-level with Collins.

Collins shrugged. "Probably."

"You should buy your ticket now then," he told him. "Just to be safe this time."

Collins frowned and looked down at the ground again.

"I don't know," he stated simply.

"What do you mean?" Maureen asked, sliding her hand into his and resting her chin on his shoulder. He rubbed his temples with his other hand and sighed again.

"I don't know," he repeated. "I don't know if I should go."

"But you were so gung-ho about it before," Benny told him.

"I know, but maybe this is a sign. I wasn't really sure about this in the beginning, so maybe there's some like, higher power or something that's trying to tell me not to go, you know?"

"Can you do that? Just not go?" asked Maureen.

"Probably. I can just un-accept the job, right? They can't make me take it or anything."

"Tom, are you sure?" Mark finally spoke up. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his pants and he was leaning forward slightly. Collins looked up at him at the use of his first name.

"I think so. I don't think I can do it. I don't want to leave here."

"Then don't," Maureen told him. Collins wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulled her closer to him, and kissed the top of her head.

"I'm gonna stay here," he decided, nodding. "I want to stay here."

"Really?" Benny asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Yeah…" he nodded. He paused and stood up slowly. "Yeah." Collins looked around the train station, then at his friends and their confused expressions.

"Sorry," he told them. They shook their heads.

"Don't be. It's okay," Benny assured him. Collins sighed and picked up a suitcase. 

"We should find another cab."

***

The four friends got back to the loft about two hours later, after unsuccessfully trying to find a cab. They ended up struggling onto the subway with their luggage and returned home, tired and wet. Collins was actually quite happy with his decision, and the stress and sadness that he had been feeling for the past week had been lifted from his shoulders. He knew that he made the right decision.

They were currently sitting around the living room eating a pizza that they had ordered about an hour and a half ago. Roger was being unsurprisingly antisocial and despondent, so they left him alone in his room at his request.

"…so the priest is like, looking at the leprechauns and he's all, 'No, no, I don't think we've got any mute midget nuns around here, sorry.' And the one leprechaun laughs to himself, turns to the other, and he's like 'I told you, Shamus! You fucked a penguin!'"

The friends erupted with laughter at the end of Mark's joke (complete with Irish accents) and dove back into their food. Maureen grimaced and looked at her half-eaten slice and tossed at back onto the plate.

"Are you gonna eat that?" Benny asked. Maureen shook her head and pushed her plate over to him across the ground, shifting on the cold floor to get more comfortable.

"Of course she's not," Mark sighed. He took a bite from his pizza and pushed his glasses up on his nose.

"Shut up, Mark," she retorted, leaning back onto the couch and crossing her arms.

"Hey, guys, chill out," Collins persuaded. He nudged Mark in the shoulder and glared at him.

"I would if he wasn't biting my head off about everything."

"Excuse me? You usually start these things."

"I do not!"

"You so do! I can't say anything anymore without you getting pissed off!" Mark yelled, jumping up from his seat on the couch. Maureen followed suit and stood up from the ground, staring up at him. Benny and Collins sunk into their seats, trying to act like nothing was going on. This was becoming a regular occurrence around here.

"It's because you say such stupid things all the time! God, I don't even know why I put up with you."

"Why _you_ put up with _me_?!" Mark asked in disbelief. "You're the one who ditches me to go out God knows where and comes home pretending everything's fine! You don't even _tell_ me where you're going!"

"Maybe I don't tell you because it's none of your business!" she shouted back at him. She tore her coat out of the closet and threw it on, slipping into her shoes quickly. "Here's another time you can add to the list." She swung open the door and stormed out, leaving the door standing open on it's own.

"I wish I never met her," Mark said, shaking his head.

"Don't say that," Collins tried. Mark left for his bedroom and shut the door behind him.

***

Maureen pressed Joanne's apartment number on the intercom in the apartment lobby and hoped she was home.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Jo? It's me."

"Oh, hi, honeybear."

A loud buzzing sound echoed through the room and the lobby door unlocked. Maureen entered it and pressed the call button for the elevator, waiting impatiently. It opened and Maureen got on, glad that there was nobody else in there. She pressed the floor number and jumped up and down to vent her frustrations. Any normal girl would be crying right now. She had heard Mark say that he wished he never met her after she left and immediately felt horrible for what she had said to him.

The elevator doors slid open and Maureen stepped out. She walked briskly down the short hallway and knocked sharply on Joanne's door. She appeared quickly and smiled when she saw Maureen. 

"Hey," she greeted, hugging her.

"Hi. How are you? Busy?"

"Oh, no. Come on in." Joanne opened the door some more and let Maureen in. She took her coat and hung it up in the closet as Maureen took off her shoes.

"Are you okay?" Joanne asked, noticing Maureen's sullen expression.

"Yeah," Maureen replied, sitting down on Joanne's couch, tucking her feet under her.

"Do you want anything to eat or to drink?" Joanne shuffled around some papers on the kitchen table into a neat pile and placed them aside.

"No."

Joanne sat next to Maureen on the couch and studied her face.

"You're not okay. What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I told you."

"Maureen, talk."

Maureen crossed her arms and sat in silence, staring straight ahead. Joanne rested a hand on her shoulder.

"Honeybear, what is it?"

"Fine. God, Mark is being a total jerk!"

"Okay…"

"No, like he's saying all these stupid things and accusing me of things, and he's just such an asshole! Like, I can't even say anything without him being all, 'oh well it's all your fault,' and it's not fair! I-I can't stand him."

Joanne stiffened at this.

"Maybe it's time you end the relationship, then," she suggested carefully. Maureen stared at her as if she just said the dumbest thing she had ever heard.

"I… can't," she stammered.

"Maureen, you can't keep doing this."

"I'm not 'doing' anything," she sulked.

"That's exactly it. You're lying to either Mark or myself, and you need to stop. You need to make a decision."

Maureen shrugged and stood up. She wandered over to the sliding doors leading out to the balcony, staring out into the rain.

"You know I choose you," she shrugged half-heartedly.

"Then why are you still with Mark? You're obviously not as over him as you're telling me."

"Says who?"

"You're stressed out over this guy and what he's doing to you. If you really were over him, you wouldn't care."

"I don't."

"Maureen." She raised her voice. "I'm sick of this. I want to know if this relationship is going to go somewhere or if I should get out of it now."

"What?" Maureen asked quietly, turning back to Joanne slowly. "No, Joanne, I do want to be with you. It's just… it's hard, because I don't want to hurt him."

"A minute ago you were complaining about him and not being able to stand him." Joanne didn't look convinced.

"No, it's not like that! Just listen to me—"

"I _have_ been listening to you, and it sounds like you'd rather be with Mark. If you're going to keep doing this to me, we need to break up. You're putting me in an awkward position here and I can't do this for much longer."

"No," Maureen whined slightly. She moved over to Joanne who was now standing by the couch and wrapped her arms around her back. "No, don't say that. I love you. I'm going to be with you."

"Then you know what you have to do," Joanne replied, detaching herself from Maureen.

"I know, and I will. Soon. I promise."

"Okay." Joanne still looked skeptical. "Maybe you should leave. I've got some work to do and some calls to make for tomorrow." She walked over to the door and opened it for her.

Maureen gaped at Joanne and sighed loudly.

"Sure."

She took her coat out of the closet and put her shoes back on, leaving the apartment quickly.

"See you later," Joanne said. Maureen ignored her and brushed past her into the hallway. She hurried down the hall and pressed the elevator call button several times, tapping her foot impatiently. The doors opened and she stepped on, noticing that the 'ground floor' button was already lit up. She glanced around the elevator. There were two teenage boys on one side of her, and a handsome man that she recognized on the other. She knew she had met him before, but couldn't remember his name.

"Hey, Maureen right?" 

She looked up quickly at him and smiled.

"Yeah."

"Max," he told her, noticing the slight confusion in her eyes.

"I know," she giggled, staring up into his bright blue eyes.

"We have to stop meeting this way."

"Yes, we do," Maureen smiled, shifting closer to him so that she wasn't so close that it was uncomfortable, but close enough to make him want more. The doors opened and they walked out into the lobby.

"Hey, do you want to maybe go get a coffee of something, Maureen?" he asked.

"Sure," she grinned, casually sliding her hand into his. Max led her through the parking garage to his BMW and they sped off. She knew exactly how this night was going to end.

Please review!


	25. Chapter 25

****

Author's Note: This chapter spans the week following the last chapter. It's actually two chapters in one, just to speed things along. You know what that means, **Mari **?!

***

CHAPTER 25

MONDAY

Mark poked his head into Roger's bedroom.

"You hungry?"

"Yeah."

"What do you want?"

"Do we have any ice cream?" Roger asked, poring over his guitar.

Mark sighed. "Hold on, I'll check." He walked back into the kitchen and opened the small icebox atop the fridge. He knew they didn't have any ice cream and Roger would probably yell and scream about it for a couple hours until he forgot about it.

"Rog," he called. "We don't have any ice cream." He braced himself.

"Do we have like, cookies or anything like that?"

That was easier than he thought it would be.

"Probably. I'll check."

He rummaged through the cupboards until he found some chocolate chip muffins. He didn't know how long they had been there, but Roger probably didn't care. He went into Roger's room and offered the muffins to him.

"Are these good?"

"Yup."

"Okay." He paused. "Your appointment at the clinic is tomorrow, remember?"

"I know," he scowled. Mark was getting tired of these mood swings.

"Just checking. Collins said he'll go with you."

"I know, Mark." He returned to plucking out a rough tune of the Fender.

"You need anything else?"

"No, I'm fine."

"All right." Mark quietly pulled the door shut and heard Roger call from inside.

"Thanks, Mark."

Mark shook his head and flopped back down onto the couch where he was before. He picked up his camera and pressed 'play'. Footage from his weekends in Scarsdale flashed before him. He loved his family, but decided it was probably best to deal with them in small doses.

An image of Maureen playing with Cathy and her dolls on the floor played back. He was so frustrated with Maureen. She had come home late again last night, and thinking Mark was fast asleep, she slipped into bed seemingly unnoticed. He didn't know what to do with her. He kept telling himself that he loved her, but the more she did this to him the less he felt it.

He heard her shuffle into the loft and walk into the kitchen, already dressed. She grabbed a glass of water from the tap and sat down at the island.

"Morning," she greeted him, not meeting his gaze.

"Hi. Where were you?"

"Out," she shrugged, taking a sip of her water.

"Maureen!"

"What?!"

"What the hell is going on with you?!"

"What do you mean?"

Mark stared blankly at her.

"Are you… on crack or something? Have you not been paying attention?"

"Mark, relax. It's just a little fun."

"Fun? At my expense! Do you have any idea how worried I get when you leave here and don't tell me where you're going?"

"Gee, sorry mom. I'm a big girl, Mark. I can take care of myself."

"I know you can, but would it kill you to tell me where the hell you go every night and why you suddenly can't spend any time with me?"

"God, just relax, okay? It's not a big deal."

"Yes it is! I can't believe you!"

Maureen glanced back at the clock on the microwave and checked the time. She hopped off the stool and walked over to the closet, where she took her coat out.

"I have rehearsal," she told him, deadpan. 

"What? You're just going to walk out during an argument?!" Mark yelled as she put on her running shoes.

"At least I'm _telling_ you where I'm going!" she screamed.

"Maureen, wait."

Her hand on the doorknob, Maureen turned back to Mark, fed up.

"I'm sorry, okay? I shouldn't have yelled," he tried. He didn't want to fight with her. _He loved her_.

"Okay. I wish I never met you," she said bitterly. She left and shut the door behind her. Mark backed up until he hit the island and leaned back onto it. She heard him.

***

TUESDAY

Benny opened his eyes groggily. Stupid inner alarm clock. He woke to find Mimi's head resting on his chest, her arms wrapped around his back. He had gone to visit her the night before to apologize, and she accepted it along with the rose he offered her. They sat up that night talking things through until they both fell asleep. They decided that they really were in love and despite Mimi's age, they were going to make it work.

Benny removed Mimi's arms from him carefully so as not to wake her and got out of the bed. He rubbed his eyes and sauntered into the tiny kitchen. He found something to eat, but his glance caught on something else on the counter. Squinting at it, he moved closer to pick it up. It was a small plastic bag of white power, and looked like something Roger would carry around with him. Benny suddenly became very nervous, his heart beating quicker than before.

"Mimi?" he called. It didn't come out as loud as he wanted, so he called to her again. "Meems?" He stared at the bag for a little while longer, then turned on his heel and back into the bedroom.

"Mimi," he shouted louder than he meant to. She jolted awake and sat up quickly.

"What? What is it?" she asked, rubbing her eyes and resettling herself among the sheets.

"What is that in the kitchen?"

"Huh? What do you mean?" She crawled across the bed to him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Are you… you know, d-do you do drugs?"

Mimi stared blankly at him, biting her bottom lip. She looked very uncomfortable and nervous, and slowly removed her arms from Benny.

"Not really," she replied quietly.

"Not really?" Benny asked, playing awkwardly with the seams on the sides of his pants. He made sure he was careful to speak calmly. Nothing was worse than erupting with anger over something stupid.

"Like, not regularly. I swear."

"But you do?"

"Benny, don't be mad. Please. It was just a couple times…"

Benny couldn't believe this. They just got back together and suddenly she's springing this on him?

"For how long?"

"A couple months. But not often. I just started doing it more when we broke up. Don't be mad, baby." 

"How can I _not_ be mad?" he asked, pacing the bedroom. "Is it serious?"

Mimi shook her head quickly. "No… it's just, every once in a while. Benny, please… I want to stop. For you."

"What?" Benny asked, standing still and staring at Mimi.

"I… I want to stop doing drugs because I want to be with you."

"Really?"

"Yes," she smiled weakly. "Really."

Benny sat down on the edge of the bed and took Mimi's hand in his. 

"Good. Because I don't want to see you end up like Roger. I don't know how anybody's putting up with him right now."

"Don't worry. I love you and I don't want to put you through anything crazy like that. Trust me."

"I do trust you," Benny smiled before leaning in and kissing Mimi.

***

NEXT MONDAY

Over the course of the next week, things around the loft definitely changed. Benny spent most of his nights at Mimi's apartment. The resident drama queen hadn't come home for days and nights at a time, and when she did it was in the very early hours of the morning to grab some clean clothes and take a shower. Mark seemed pretty depressed about this, and Collins was left to take care of the whiny Mark and secluded Roger. Roger hadn't left the loft for fear of what he'd do. He didn't want to get back into drugs, and felt like he couldn't handle the outside world anymore. Collins took him to the clinic, and that's where he was diagnosed and started on AZT. Roger cried himself to sleep that night, wishing he had April with him. The next morning he called up Bender, one of his band mates, to tell him he had to quit the band. Roger, who was once loud, rude, and extremely extroverted, was now quiet and reclusive, scared of everything around him.

Roger sighed and tilted his head as he tried to figure out what he was watching on television. He had been at it for a good thirty minutes, and had even tried to keep his cool. Mark let him order food, but then he quickly left to go filming again. He had been doing that a lot lately. It was Tuesday night, and Collins had a meeting with the Dean at NYU about getting his old job back (though everybody knew it was a sure thing), Mark was out filming again, and Benny was over at Mimi's apartment, where he had been for the last week. Roger was glad to have some time to himself without people's nagging voices in his ear.

He spoke too soon.

The front door opened, and Roger heard a female laugh from down the hall. Benny appeared in the doorway, grinning, and balked when he saw Roger.

"Hey, man."

"Hi."

"Uh, I just brought Mimi over."

"Okay."

"We'll just… oh my God, what are you doing?" he laughed, looking down the hall. A woman Roger assumed to be Mimi collided into Benny, laughing. She wrapped her arms around his waist and smiled at Roger.

"Hey."

"Hi," Roger grumbled. 

"Sunshine," Benny whispered to Mimi, who erupted with another set of giggles. They entered the loft and removed the coats and shoes. Mimi flopped onto the chair by Roger and looked over to the television as Benny wandered into the kitchen. He noticed a note on the counter. He scanned it quickly and sighed. 

"Shit. Baby, I gotta go call Sean from work."

"Why?" she asked, turning to face him. He shrugged and picked up the phone from the kitchen counter.

"I dunno, I'll just be a minute." He brushed past her and into his bedroom. Mimi laughed and turned back around, looking at the television again.

"You're Roger, right?" she asked. Roger grunted in response, crossed his arms and sunk lower into his seat on the couch.

"I can't believe Benny," she laughed. "Work always comes first, right?" She continued when she got no response. "He's a workaholic, I swear."

Roger shrugged. Mimi studied him for a long moment as he watched the television.

"Are you okay? Benny told me you were going through withdrawal."

"I'm gonna kick his ass," Roger grumbled.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't know. I shouldn't have brought it up."

"No," Roger sighed. "It's okay. Yeah I am." He really wasn't in the mood to spill all his problems to a complete stranger, or to anyone at that.

"I know how you feel," she told him, placing her hands underneath her legs and kicking at the bottom of the chair.

"Sure."

"No, seriously. My friend was really into drugs and everything." She shrugged. "But she went to rehab to get better."

"Of course she did. They all do."

"Huh?"

"Nothing," Roger sighed. "Never mind."

"She kind of got me into it, too. But Benny said we'll nip it in the bud and I'll be okay, you know?"

"Good for you."

"Sorry. I guess I'm not helping, am I?"

"Not really."

"Have you thought about rehab?"

Roger shrugged.

"My friend said it's the best thing you could do. It's harder to do it alone. She told me."

"And do you believe everything your little friend says?"

"Well she knows more than most people. More than you, I'm sure," she snapped. 

"I'm sure," he repeated. "Is she a stripper, too?"

Mimi glared at him. "I'm not a stripper, I'm a dancer. There's a difference."

"I just call 'em like I see 'em. When I last saw you, you were dancing half-naked for a crowd of probably very drunk guys."

"Shut up," she retorted lamely. Roger scoffed and turned his attention back to the television. Who was she to waltz into the loft and act like she owned the place?

"I was just trying to help."

Did she ever shut up?

"I don't need your help."

"You sure look like you do. You're sitting in your own garbage watching smushy black and white reruns of the Three Stooges. You're such a typical guy," she spat.

Roger and Mimi sat in a tense silence for the next several minutes. They could hear Benny talking on the phone in the other room, though neither could make out what he was saying. Roger picked up the Chinese food cartons from around him and piled them neatly on the floor by his feet. He cleared his throat and crossed his arms again.

"I guess I got through to you," Mimi giggled quietly, still staring at the television. 

"I guess you did," Roger laughed. He glanced over to Mimi and smiled.

"Sorry," she told him, meeting his glance. Roger turned away quickly when she looked at him and focused on the wall across from him.

"It's okay. I guess I kind of deserved it."

"Yeah you did," Mimi grinned. She stuck her tongue out at him, so he knew she was joking.

"So…" Roger began, glancing around the room awkwardly. "Do you know what rehab's like?"

Mimi thought for a moment before shrugging. "Not really. My friend doesn't really like to talk about it. She just kind of looks forward to whatever's coming next."

"Oh."

"But she came back really happy and really healthy," Mimi added quickly. "She looked great and felt better. So I'd totally suggest it. If you want to." She paused and they sat in silence again, watching the television. "_Do_ you want to?"

Roger shrugged slowly. "I think I do. 'Cause it's kind of hard to do this all alone. And everybody here gets mad at me a lot. I just don't know how to go about it."

"I could help," Mimi suggested. "I mean, if you want me to," she added quickly. Roger sunk back into his seat and looked down to the ground, nodding. Mimi tilted her head and watched him in silence. She got up and sat down beside him.

"It'll be okay," she told him quietly, resting a hand on his shoulder. He didn't recoil, so she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him. "It'll be okay."

***

Maureen tripped slightly as she sauntered up the stairs to the loft. She had more trouble with those damn heels than she'd ever let on. She tugged at the top of the boots to try and make them more comfortable and she hopped up the stairs on one foot, holding onto the railing for support. She glanced down at her watch and winced when she noticed that it was one o'clock on Wednesday morning. She didn't know what to tell Mark this time. She had a rehearsal at one o'clock, but that had ended and seven in the evening. One of the men in the cast, Kevin, had invited her to dinner with his boyfriend and his boyfriend's sister. She went with them, and after dinner at about ten they had all decided to go out to a bar. They all left at about 11:30 except for Maureen who decided to stay and have a little more fun. She did, and now she was recovering from said fun, hoping she could slip into the loft unnoticed.

Maureen opened the door quietly and crept into the room. She was caught off guard when she saw Mark sitting on the couch staring up at her.

__

Make up your mind and I'll make up mine,   
Don't worry about me, I'll be fine.  
Those words that you said to me, why wasn't I listening?  
I wish I hadn't met you at all. 

"Mark! Holy shit, what are you doing?" she asked, tossing her coat aside. He raised an eyebrow at her and Maureen looked back at him. "What?"

"Where were you?" he asked, eerily calmly. Maureen shrugged and pulled off her shoes.

__

I started thinking…

I'll sit back and relax and wait for the morning. 

We'll wake up, we'll make up, and do this for the last time.

We'll wake up, we'll make up, and do this for the last time.

"Just went out after the show for dinner with a guy from the cast… and his boyfriend," she added, noticing the sudden hurt in his eyes. He shook his head as if to clear his mind and stood up.

"Dinner doesn't go until midnight."

"One…" Maureen trailed off quietly, realizing the stupidity of her comment.

Mark sighed, and a look of anger came over his face.

__

If we break up, we'll wind up losing both of our minds.   
So wake up, let's make up, and do this for the last time.

"I'm sick of this, Maureen. I can't do it anymore. I can't handle you."

"Excuse me?" Maureen asked, placing her hands on her hips.

"You're too… crazy for me. This relationship has given me more stress than anything ever in my life. I'd rather be back in Brown with homework coming out of my ass and my parents nagging my face off every night."

__

The last time you yelled at me I swore that I heard you say   
'I wish I hadn't met you at all'

"Thanks," she replied sarcastically. "Would you rather get hit by a car, too?"

"Keep it down. Everyone else is asleep."

"I'll talk as loud the hell as I want to!" she yelled. "I live here, too!"

"But you don't even help with rent!" Mark retorted. "Do you think that everything's gonna be handed to you on a silver platter or something? Like, what the hell is going on inside your head?!"

"I could ask you the same thing! Wasn't it _you_ who said you wish you'd never met me? That's not how you treat your girlfriend!"

"And you don't treat your boyfriend like _this_! I can't even count the number of times I've been sitting up in the middle of the night waiting for you to get home from wherever the fuck you go!"

__

We'll wake up, we'll make up and do this for the last time.   
If we break up, we'll wind up losing both of our minds   
So wake up, let's make up, and do this for the last time 

Mark took a step back. Maureen immediately quieted down and even though she looked poised to reach out and hit him, she stood still as she looked down to the ground.

"I just think we're too different," he said quietly. He expected Maureen to freak out and start screaming at him, but she didn't. Instead she stood a few feet away from Mark, gaping at him.

"I think we need to break up," Mark sighed shakily. That was quite possibly the hardest thing he ever had to do. He watched Maureen nod dumbly as her eyes lowered again.

W_hen will we make up, will we break up   
Let's wake up, let's wake up, let's wake up…_

"Mark, no…" she pleaded quietly. "Marky." He nodded.

"Sorry." He backed up slowly and went into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him. He sat carefully on the edge of the bed and listened intently for any sounds coming from the next room. No sniffling, no sobs, no crying. Apparently she's not as angry about this as she could have been.

He couldn't believe that she really wasn't feeling anything about this. It killed him inside to know that he just broke up with Maureen. He had been sitting on the couch, planning for that night to be like every other, where Maureen would stumble into the loft, she's rattle off one of her excuses, and Mark would take her in his arms, kiss everything better, and fall asleep with his arms wrapped tightly around her, never wanting to let her go. Instead, at the very last minute he realized that he needed to get rid of her. If he broke up with her, his life would be rolling along more smoothly. He wouldn't be constantly be worrying about her whereabouts and fighting with her. So he did it.

He stood up from the bed and quickly changed into his pyjamas, shoving his dirty laundry in the plastic hamper at the bottom of his closet. He crawled under the covers and pulled the blankets up to his chin, shutting his eyes tightly so as to try and keep his thoughts off of Maureen. He tossed and turned for what felt like an eternity until he heard a tiny, almost silent, knock at the door. It creaked open and Maureen's silhouette appeared in the doorway.

"Can I sleep with you tonight?" she whispered nervously. Mark sat up hesitantly and moved over, nodding. Maureen got into bed next to Mark. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, never wanting to let her go, and she rested her head on his shoulder as she had many nights before. They both immediately felt at peace, clinging onto each other for dear life.

__

Let's wake up, let's make up, and do this for the last time.

*** 

+Lyrics = "Make Up Your Mind" by Theory of a Deadman 

Reviews motivate me to write quicker! The response I get from the upcoming chapters will probably determine the length of this story… so if you're reading and you want to see more, review! It's what all the cool kids are doing.


	26. Chapter 26

****

Author's Note: Look at me and my super fast updating! This is a short chapter, but it sets the stage for future events. Look forward to a long chapter coming up!

CHAPTER 26

Maureen shoved another sweater into her backpack as quietly as she could. There was no way she could fit everything into it, but she was going to damn well try. She knew that she had to get out of the loft before Mark woke up to avoid an awkward situation. Maureen zipped up the bag quickly and tossed it over her shoulder, making sure she looked presentable in the mirror before sneaking out of Mark's bedroom. Nobody else was up yet. It was very, very early. She carefully dropped her bag onto the couch and made her way into the kitchen. She felt around on the top of the fridge and pulled off Roger's cheque and April's letter before she found what she was looking for: the key to April's apartment. Maureen pocketed it and also scanned the letter again. She knew April had left her address in it in case an emergency should arise and they need to go there. Sure, April meant a fire or a robbery, but this was emergency enough. April wouldn't want Maureen living on the streets. She searched for and found a pen, and scrawled the address on the back of her hand. Placing the letter and the cheque back on top of the fridge, Maureen sighed. She'd call Joanne later today and at least she wouldn't be completely alone. 

Maureen walked over to the closet and removed her coat. As she did up the buttons on the front, she slid into her shoes, too. She then picked up her bag from the couch and placed both straps over her shoulders. She took a last look around the loft and left, shutting the door quietly behind her.

Maureen couldn't believe that Mark had broken up with her. Well, yes she could. She wasn't always the best girlfriend, but it wasn't her fault. She couldn't help it. Despite the way she treated Mark, she really did love him. Having a real relationship scared her. It scared her more than anything. She had never really had a real relationship, romantic or otherwise, and such a serious one so fast made her nervous. So she reacted the only way she knew how: by distancing herself from it. She hated herself for what she was doing to him. Or, what she _did_ to him.

Before long, Maureen found herself standing in front of a short apartment building. She glanced down at her hand to make sure it was the right place, then ascended the stairs. It was in a very nice area and the building seemed very well kept. She pushed open the lobby door and jogged up the stairs not even bothering with the elevator, knowing her track record with them. She checked her hand again and walked down the small hallway, looking for apartment 2C. She found it and dug through her pocket for the key.

The door opened to reveal a neat and tidy apartment, looking quite like a university dorm room. On her left was small kitchen, on the right there was a couch and a television set, and directly across from her were two doors, what she deduced to be the bedroom and the bathroom. Maureen dropped her bag by her feet and shut the door behind her. She looked around the apartment and leaned against the door. She had lost everything. Her head bumped against the door and for the first time in a very long time, Maureen Johnson cried.

***

That afternoon, Mark, Benny, Mimi, Collins, and Roger stood in the train station, saying their goodbyes. Mimi had kept her word and helped Roger find a treatment centre, and through all of this they formed a strange bond that everybody had taken heed of. They were all very proud of Roger, and besides Mark's cranky demeanour, they were all conflicted. They were sad to see him go, but they were happy that he decided to do this. Roger was going to be gone for six months to somewhere in Connecticut, having been told that the longer stay in rehabilitation, the more likely one would be to stay away from drugs. He didn't know if that was really true, but he figured he would try it anyway.

Roger punched Benny playfully on the shoulder. "Bye, man."

"See you soon, right? It won't be long," Benny reassured him, pulling Roger in for a hug. Roger patted his back and nodded.

"Yeah. Won't be too long." He moved onto Mimi, hugging her, too. "Thanks beautiful."

"Don't even worry about it. But I will expect some sort of payment in the future," she giggled.

"We'll see." He kissed her on the cheek and turned to Mark who was frowning. "Sad to see me go?"

Mark shrugged half-heartedly. "Yeah."

"Forget about her," Roger whispered as he hugged Mark. "She was a slut anyway. You can do so much better."

Mark shrugged again and smiled. "Maybe."

"Love you guys. I'll miss you."

The three waved to both Roger and Collins. Collins patted Roger on the back and smiled.

"You ready to go?"

Roger sighed and nodded. Collins told Roger that he'd take him and drop him off. That man was full of so much love and dedication, and nobody understood how or why he did it.

Roger and Collins boarded the train after Collins got the chance to say his goodbyes, even though he would be back soon. 

"You want the window seat?" Collins asked Roger, who shrugged and nodded.

"I guess." They sat down and Roger stared out the window at his friends. Mimi was currently jumping up and down, waving and blowing kisses and screaming "bon voyage!" and "bye Roger!". Benny was laughing and waving, and Mark was sulking and giving small dismissive waves, smiling for his friend.

Collins laughed. "You've got a pretty pathetic fan club."

"Yeah," Roger smiled. The train began to pull out, and Collins and Roger waved as they slowly departed.

"Bye Roger!" they faintly heard Mimi shout from the platform. Collins laughed and continued to wave. Roger leaned back in his seat and whispered to himself.

"Bye Roger."


	27. Chapter 27

****

Author's Note: Thanks for all the reviews, guys!! You're all awesome!!! Sorry about the delay, ff.net wouldn't let me upload. This chapter spans a larger period of time, so the vignettes included in it all take place in chronological order near the very end of the six months of Roger's absence.

Also, **the-fraulein**, thanks so much for the review! I love "Why Does Distance Make Us Wise"! I know it wasn't really developed on, but a few chapters back it talks about Benny getting a job offer from Mr. Grey. So all this is happening provided he didn't take the job and therefore meet Alison. So instead, he stayed with Mimi, who in turn convinced Roger to go to rehab. This story's showing how the smallest thing, like not accepting a job, can change everything.

DON'T BREATHE TOO DEEP

Chapter 27

-----------------

Over the next five months, things changed greatly for the once tightly knit group. New relationships were created and flourished, and old ones were pushed out of mind, but not completely forgotten. Things moved quickly for some, while for others the time dragged on slowly and painfully. Changes were recognized and ignored. Those five months held promise for some and pain and sadness for others.

-----------------

For the next week, Mark continued to sulk about Maureen until he woke up one morning completely over her. Within another week, he found himself on a date with Lisa Katz, whom he had been dating since. Their relationship wasn't perfect, but it was much less stressful than when it was with Maureen. Less than a week after that, Mark got a call from his brother-on-law Michael who was offering him a small job at his advertising agency. He snapped up the offer (though he was sure Cindy had put him up to it), and for once things were looking up. At least, that's what everybody kept telling him.

Within these months, Mimi had also moved into their building. She received news that her building had been bought and was to be torn down, so Benny convinced her to move into their building. She did, and Benny found himself spending more time down there with her than at his own place, so he eventually decided to move in with her instead, leaving Collins and Mark alone in the apartment until Roger returned home.

It was currently mid way through July, and between Mark and Collins, they managed to purchase and install an air conditioner. They made some general repairs to the loft, pooling their money. They replaced Roger's broken window, repainted some walls and bought a space heater. They still complained about the shittiness of the loft, but now it was more liveable, and they were doing just fine.

"Hello? I'm talking to you," a feminine voice laughed. Mark snapped out of his trance-like state and looked across the restaurant table at Lisa. Her bobbed hair was tucked neatly behind her ear and she was smiling slightly.

Mark laughed and shook his head. "Sorry."

"It's okay, sweetie," she smiled. "Any, like I was saying, if you come to Scarsdale next weekend we could do something. You know, go swimming or hang out. You up for it?"

He nodded slowly and placed his fork back onto his plate. "Sure, I guess."

"It will be fun," she reassured him, noticing the disinterest in his eyes. "My parents love you."

"Likewise," Mark shrugged, glancing around the restaurant. He caught the gaze of the waiter, who made his was quickly over to their table.

"Can I get you any coffee or desert?"

Mark shook his head and looked to Lisa who did the same. 

"Just the cheque please," Mark requested. The waiter nodded and returned to the table quickly with their bill. Mark left some money for their meal and the couple stood up and made their way out of the restaurant.

Mark heard Lisa mumble something inaudible, so he placed a hand on the small of her back and leaned in closer to her as they left the restaurant and walked out into the parking lot. 

"What?" he asked.

Lisa laughed and patted Mark's cheek with the back of her hand. "I think you're going deaf, hon. I asked if you wanted to go back to the loft or if we need to do anything else while we're out?"

"Oh, no. I think we're good," he told her, waiting for her to unlock the passenger side of the car. He hopped is and buckled up his seat belt. Lisa was visiting Mark for the weekend, as she had been doing for the past several weeks. Collins was visiting his family on Long Island, so they had the place to themselves. Roger was coming home within the week, so Mark was very excited.

"Before I forget," he started once Lisa had got into the driver's seat. "Roger, my other roommate that I told you about, he's coming home from rehab soon, so you'll finally get to meet him."

Lisa wrinkled her nose and placed her keys in the ignition. "I guess. Maybe we should pick up some ice cream before we go home?"

"Yeah, maybe… We can all go out and have a party or something to welcome him home, you know? Collins and Benny can come, and Mimi–"

"Sounds good," she cut him off distractedly, glancing out her window as she pulled out of her parking spot. "Can you spot me on that side?"

Mark sighed and nodded, looking out his own window. "Sure."

Well, _he_ couldn't wait for Roger to come back.

-----------------

Maureen took another sip of her beer and wrapped an arm around Max's neck to keep her balance, resettling himself on his lap. They had become self-proclaimed "friends with benefits" over the last little while. 

Joanne broke up with Maureen soon after Mark left her. Maureen didn't dedicate herself to the relationship and found herself doing the same thing that she did to Mark to Joanne - with a different person every night. She told Maureen that she was sick of being second-string in their relationship and she wasn't about to date a woman who didn't seem to care to be with her either way. Maureen became scared that she was completely alone in the world, and decided to get over this feeling by going out and partying instead. Over the next five months she had been living at April's apartment, but had been out at other people's places more. Her days consisted of rehearsals and performances for _The Importance of Being Earnest_ then nights of bar hopping, clubbing, and beautiful strangers. No strings, no promises, and no relationships.

"When do you want to leave?" Max asked, trailing kisses along her shoulder. He wrapped one arm around her waist, which was thinner than before, and rested the other on the bar next to him. Maureen swallowed more of her beer and shrugged.

"Doesn't matter," she replied. She ran her fingers through Max's dark spiked hair and rubbed the back of his head. "I have to get up early tomorrow. I think I should just go to sleep." She caught the eye of the bartender that she had been flirting with all night long and smiled coyly at him. He smiled back and slid another bottle of beer over to her. She picked it up and handed it to Max, hiccuping. "Open this up."

Max did as he was told and handed the bottle back to her, talking to a man who was sitting beside him at the bar. She took a swig of her drink and leaned against Max. 

"Fuck," she complained, slamming her hand on the bar.

"What?" Max laughed, running his hand up and down her thigh.

"What's her face is coming back soon."

"Huh?" he asked. "Joanne?"

"The fuck? No… the other one. April. The junkie."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Max asked, taking a sip of the beer he had been nursing all night long.

Maureen gave a whole body shrug. "I dunno. Never mind. I want to go," she whined like a child, wriggling out of Max's grasp. He nodded and said goodbye to his friend before paying for their drinks.

"You didn't have very much to drink tonight," Max noted, pulling his car keys out of his pocket. He pushed the door open for Maureen who shrugged. "It's only eleven-thirty. Are you okay?"

Maureen nodded. "Yeah," she lied. She waited patiently for him to unlock the door, and when he did, she slid into the front seat and sunk into the leather interior. Staring at the lights and signs outside as they glowed and flickered, she heard Max talking to her. She attempted to listen to him but failed miserably, fiddling with the locket around her neck and trying to forget about what she had to do the next day.

-----------------

Collins pulled his bag out of the trunk of the cab and slung it over his shoulder. He walked up the short stone walkway lined with flowers to a red wooden door. He rang the doorbell twice and took a step back, waiting patiently. A tall blonde woman opened the door quickly and grinned when she saw Collins.

"Tom!" she squealed. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him in for a tight hug. "Sweetie, how are you?"

"Hi Mom," he laughed as he hugged her back. "All right. How about you? Where's dad?"

"He's in the backyard, gardening. His doctor says it relieves stress," she told him as she shut the door behind them. Collins took off his shoes and dropped his bag on the ground, when he heard footsteps barrelling down the stairs.

"Tommy!" a young voice yelled. A redheaded teenager darted down the stairs and quickly jumped up onto him, wrapping her legs around his waist. 

"Hey angel. Last time I saw you, you were blonde," he laughed, spinning the girl in circles.

She hugged him tighter around his neck. "I missed you so much!" she told him.

"Kasia, get off your brother, please," his mother told her, leaving to go fetch her husband.

She hopped back down onto the ground and smiled up at Collins, pulling him into the living room.

"So how was your first year of high school? Meet any boys?" he teased her.

She stuck out her tongue and sat down on the couch next to him. "Maybe. I like high school. It's fun. The teachers are way cooler but the classes are harder. I dunno, there are more people though, and that's cool."

Collins grinned and hugged his younger sister. "Is Sam home this weekend?"

Kasia nodded. "He said as long as you're home he'll come home too. Then mom started to cry," she laughed.

Collins smiled at his sister. She wasn't his biological sister, but he loved her like one. When Collins was eleven, his parents passed away in a car accident. He and his brother Sam, who was eight at the time, had been shipped off from adoptive parents to adoptive parents, never really being accepted into the family. When Alexander and Danielle Edward had taken him and his brother in, they immediately felt like the belonged. The kids were soon adopted by the young couple, and two years later Danielle Edward gave birth to their own daughter, Kasia. The family was always very close and they had been through a lot together. Alex and Danielle were very supportive and treated Tom and Sam like their own children. 

Mr. and Mrs. Edward came in from the backyard, Mr. Edward noticeably tanned from the sun.

"Thomas," he greeted him, opening his arms out for a hug. Mrs. Edward disappeared into the kitchen. 

"How are you, dad?" he asked, patting his father on the back.

"Oh, I'm fine. It's hot out!" he laughed. Both men sat down in the living room.

"So, how have thing been going? Work? That Noah boy?" he asked, placing his gardening gloves on the coffee table.

Collins shrugged. "Actually we're not seeing each other any more."

"Why not?" Kasia asked, tucking her feet under her. 

Alex shook his head. "Kash," he chided her..

"No, no, don't worry. We just wanted different things, I guess. It's okay."

Mrs. Edward appeared back in the living room holding a tray of a pitcher of lemonade, plastic cups, and cookies.

"Should we all go out to the patio?" she suggested. Everybody agreed and wandered outside. Within the hour, Sam came to the door, and the entire family sat out on the backyard patio.

"Is everybody good with a barbecue for dinner?" Alex asked. They all nodded.

"Kasia, will you help me set the table out here?" Mrs. Edward asked.

"Yup," she replied, and with that they were back inside the house.

Several hours later, Collins was in his old bedroom, which he shared with Sam. They had finished dinner and sat around the table talking until late. They all made their way up to their bedroom, and Collins took a shower and was now very tired, Sam claiming the bathroom after him. He hopped into bed and pulled the covers over him, settling himself against the pillows when the door opened.

"Sorry," Sam grimaced, flipping the light on. He made his way over to his duffel bag and began putting things in it and taking other things out.

"It's okay," Collins replied, sitting up.

"Are you all right?" his brother asked him, looking up as he pulled a pair of socks out of his bag.

Collins nodded. "Yeah, why?"

"You seem kind of… sad," he replied, sitting on the edge of his bed and pulling on his socks.

"I do?"

Sam shrugged. "Yeah. It's about Noah, isn't it?"

"What do you mean?" _How did he know?_

He pushed himself back onto his bed and leaned against the headboard. "You're not happy unless you're in a relationship."

"What?" Collins laughed, staring back at his younger brother.

"Well," he started. "Whenever you're single you get kind of depressed and you act like you're not good enough for anything."

"No I don't…"

"Yeah you do," he laughed. "And it's stupid, because you're perfect."

Collins scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest. "Hardly."

"Please. You were _so_ the older brother that I wanted to be. You were the smartest one in your class, everybody loved you, and you were so cool."

Collins shrugged and began playing with the edge of the blanket. 

"Just because you're not dating anybody doesn't mean that you're not good enough."

"Then what _does_ it mean?" Collins asked, sighing.

Sam smiled warmly at his brother. "It doesn't mean anything. You're not completely alone, you know. You've got all of us here, and your weird roommates…"

Collins laughed. "Yeah, but I just feel like… time's running out, and I don't want to die alone."

Sam smirked. "You're kidding me, right? You're twenty six, and–"

"Twenty seven. Twenty eight next month."

"Okay, you're twenty seven, twenty eight next month. You've got tons of time – you're healthy and and you'll definitely find someone, I know that."

Collins smiled. "Maybe."

"No, not maybe. You will. Believe me, from one brother to another, any guy would be lucky to have you."

Still looking skeptical, Collins shrugged.

"Trust me, man. If not, you can jump me in a dark alleyway and steal my wallet."

"Uh, sure…" Collins laughed, giving his brother a funny look. "Thanks, Sam."

Sam grinned and threw one of his pillows across the room at his brother. "No problem. Do you still snore?"

"Yeah," he laughed, placing the pillow behind his head.

"You better not tonight," he warned him, settling himself underneath the covers.

"Do you still talk in your sleep?"

"Yeah. Remember that time you shoved a balled up sock in my mouth to keep me from talking?"

Both men erupted into laughter. "Yeah! It worked! I didn't hear anything all night."

"…Because I cried my way to mom and dad's room! Jerk," he teased him.

"Loser."

"Night."

"Night, Sam. Thanks."

-----------------

April walked into her apartment building dragging her bag behind her. She was so glad to finally be home. She pressed the call button for the elevator, surprised that it had been repaired. After several months of her complaining about it to the superintendent nothing had ever been done about it.

She stepped onto it and glanced around, smiling. Soon, everything would be perfect. She ran her fingers through her hair, which was longer than before. The blonde hair dye was growing out, and the light brown roots were showing. She'd have to get it re-dyed. The doors slid open and April wandered down the hallway to her apartment. She took her keys out of her bag and unlocked the door. Entering the apartment, she noticed that it was a bit messier than she left it and the lights were on inside. She opened the door wider and peered in nervously.

"Hello?" she called, her hand still clutching the doorknob tightly. No answer. "Hello?" she called louder.

The bedroom door opened slowly and Maureen appeared on the other side, her eyes red and puffy.

"Maureen?" When she noticed she was crying, her tone changed immediately from surprise to disbelief. "What's wrong?"

"Sorry about this. Uh, long story, I'll tell you about it later. I can go…" she told her, going back into the bedroom and collecting her things.

April swung the door shut, dropped her bag on the ground and followed Maureen into the bedroom.

"No, it's okay. Just… what happened? Why aren't you at the loft?"

Maureen shrugged. "I don't live there anymore. Me and Mark broke up a while ago. I just fucked myself over," she explained, sniffing back tears and dropping her belongings in her backpack. As she put them in, April took them out.

"What are you talking about? Sweetie, where are you going to go?"

Maureen shrugged and flopped down so she was sitting on the bed. "I don't know. Fuck, I don't know."

April pushed Maureen's bag away and sat down next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. 

"Why are you crying?" she asked carefully. At this, Maureen began to cry harder. She dropped her head into her hands and doubled over.

"Is it about Mark?"

"No."

"Then what is it?"

"Nothing," Maureen told her, shaking her head and swiping away her tears. "Just forget about it. Welcome home," she smiled weakly.

April forced a laugh. "Thanks." Maureen stood back up and began to pack up her things again, but April stopped her, grabbing her hands.

"No, don't even bother. You're going to stay here. We'll hang out tonight. We can get takeout and watch movies or something."

Maureen whimpered and forced a watery smile. She couldn't even bother to say no, she knew she didn't have any other place to go. "Okay."

-----------------

Mark shuffled into the kitchen in his parents' home and plopped down at the kitchen table next to the very pregnant Cindy, who was very engrossed in a newspaper article.

"Morning," she greeted him, finishing off her toast.

"Hey," he sighed. "Where's mom?"

She shrugged. "Grocery shopping. How'd you sleep?"

"Oh, fine," he replied, standing back up and sifting through the refrigerator for something to eat. "Do you know if Lisa knows I'm here?"

"No clue, but probably if mom has anything to do with it."

"Great," he said sarcastically. "I'm going to have to take her for lunch, aren't I?"

Cindy laughed and folded up the newspaper. "Do you actually _like_ your girlfriend?"

"Yeah, she's great, I guess." Mark pulled some cereal out of the cupboard and poured it into a bowl.

"You guess?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. She's nice and all, but I don't think we're… a couple, you know? She's taking it all really seriously and I don't know if I'm that serious about it."

"Well Mark, if that's the case you need to tell her."

"Yeah…" he trailed off. "That, and I kind of miss Maureen."

"What?!" she asked, jumping up from her seat. She moved over to Mark and stared at him as if he just said the dumbest thing she had ever heard. "Maureen, as in the b-word who cheated on you and drove you crazy?"

"Yeah– well, I don't really have any _proof_ that she was cheating on me. That's just what Benny and Collins said it was like."

"Mark," Cindy shook her head. "Be careful. You don't want to get back into that."

"I know. Okay, sorry, never mind," he said quickly, swallowing a spoonful of cereal.

"Don't worry," she said, looking at him. She waddled back over to the table and sat down, placing a hand on her stomach. "I'm only seven months pregnant, why am I so big?"

"You're not."

"Most women aren't even this big at _nine_ months," she told him. "This is ridiculous."

"Are you having a boy or a girl?"

"A boy," she smiled. "But don't tell Michael. He doesn't want to know until it's born."

"Okay," Mark laughed. "I won't." He stared at the phone on the wall and debated picking it up and calling Lisa. "Should I call her?"

"Or you could just walk like, the two houses down and visit her."

Mark thought about this for a moment before continuing. "Yeah… I'm gonna call her."

----------------

April pushed the pizza box over to Maureen and took a bite out of her own piece. 

"So how have things been going for the last few months?" She finally got Maureen to calm down, after which the two women proceeded to order every kind of takeout they could think of.

"Um, okay. Roger came home and I think he's going through withdrawal."

"He didn't go to rehab?" April asked, shocked.

Maureen shrugged. "No clue. Not since I last saw him."

"Oh…" April trailed off, obviously hurt that Roger didn't take her advice.

"It's okay," Maureen reassured her, though she really didn't know if it was. 

"I know," April nodded. She reached across the coffee table and picked up the tin bowl of spaghetti. "Maybe I'll call him later. I missed him."

"I bet."

April wrinkled her nose. "Crap, I need to call my parents, too."

"Good luck with that," Maureen laughed. "That should be fun."

"Oh yeah. They were pretty pissed off but hopefully they've had time to cool off."

"Four months is probably enough," Maureen shrugged, picking the mushrooms off her piece of pizza. She wrinkled her nose and dropped them onto April's plate. 

"I guess. You don't like them?" April asked, plopping the mushrooms onto her own pizza.

Maureen shook her head. "Thanks for letting me stay here with you," she said quietly, taking a small bite out of her slice.

"Oh, no problem. It's the least I can do."

They awkwardly turned their attention back to the television where they were watching _Ferris Bueller's Day Off_. 

"Why did you and Mark break up?" April asked quietly after several moments, turning to face Maureen.

She sighed and gave a one-shoulder shrug. "I was cheating on him."

"What? You were? With who?"

"A lot of people. I really messed up."

"Oh my God…"

"Yeah, I know."

"But then why were you crying?"

Maureen sighed. "Well," she started, putting her plate on the coffee table. "When Mark broke up with me, and I was seeing this other woman, Joanne, and I really liked her. But then she dumped me, too, so I dunno, I guess I just got really depressed and everything. So, I went out and got really drunk and did whatever, and I've been doing that ever since. There's this guy, Max, and we had this kind of agreement, like, if he doesn't have anything to do, and I don't have anything to do, then we, well, do things together. So, anyway," she sighed shakily and looked over at the television. "Last week I found out I was pregnant, and God knows I could never do it, so I got an abortion," she managed to spit out quickly. She gave a big shuttering breath and blinked back tears that fell down her cheeks anyway. It felt good to finally get everything off her chest.

"Oh my God," was all April could say. She placed her food on the coffee table in front of her and wrapped her arms around Maureen's neck, pulling her in for a hug. "Are you okay?"

Maureen hesitantly accepted the hug and nodded, sniffing and whimpering. "I think so. I've just been crying a lot. Like, a lot. I don't cry," she laughed quietly through her tears.

"Have you just been resting for the last couple days?" April asked, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

She nodded. "I've pretty much stopped going out all together. I called out of my play for the last couple days, but I think I'm going to get back to it soon. I've been kind of… I don't know, scared to go out."

April smiled sympathetically. What a situation to come home to. "Well, see… I told myself that when I came home I was going to go out and go on a big shopping trip. You know, buy new clothes, get my hair done and stuff. If I go tomorrow, would you want to come with me? My treat, before my parents take away all my money," she laughed. April really wanted to be friends with Maureen. She seemed like a lot of fun and a really great person. Sure, she had her issues, too, but April was definitely thankful that she was there to help her before. Now she was hoping she could reciprocate and help Maureen, too.

Maureen thought about this for a moment and cocked her head at April. "You sure? You're doing so much for me already…" she told her in disbelief.

"Yeah," April nodded. "It will be fun."

Maureen smiled slightly and nodded. "Okay."

-----------------

The phone rang in the loft, and for once instead of screening, Collins decided to answer it. He stood up from the couch, carefully moving so that he wouldn't disturb any of the papers scattered around him on the new coffee table. He picked up the phone from the island and clicked it on.

"Hello?" he asked distractedly.

"Hi, Collins? It's me."

"Maureen?" he asked, surprised. "Where are you?"

"I'm at April's house."

"April? She's back? How is she?"

"Oh, she's fine. She's right here. She says hi," Maureen laughed. _"Can I ask you something?"_ she asked, suddenly more serious.

"Yeah," Collins told her. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, it's just… closing night for my show is coming up, and everybody has their family and friends coming, and I don't really have any family or anything. So I was wondering if you would come and see me."

"I'd love to, sweetie. That would be wonderful," Collins smiled.

"Really?" she asked, surprised.

Collins laughed. "Yes, really. I haven't seen you in a while!"

"Oh, good," she replied, very relieved. _"It's next Friday at eight o'clock."_ Collins managed to find a piece of paper and scrawled her directions onto it.

"I can't wait to see you. How have things been going?"

"Um, okay. They've been… going. I've been staying here at April's, so it's not too bad," she laughed nervously. _"How about you?"_

"I'm good, I'm good. The loft is too quiet without you. We miss you around here, beautiful."

"Me too. I'm glad you didn't go to MIT."

"Me too."

Silence.

"Collins?"

"Yeah?" he asked, doodling 'Maureen's Play' on the top of the paper in block letters.

Scared that someone might somehow overhear her, Maureen whispered. _"I miss Mark."_

Collins frowned. He didn't have the heart to tell her that he had moved on.

"Sweetie…" he started, not knowing how to finish that. "You two just weren't meant to be together."

"I know, but I still miss him. I know I screwed up pretty bad."

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Mo. This kind of thing happens all the time."

"I know." She sighed._ "I know. Sorry… I'll let you get back to whatever you were doing."_

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I hope you can come to my show."

"Me too. If you ever need to talk, I'm always here for you. I'll take you out to lunch one day."

"We'll see," she laughed._ "I'll see you soon, right?"_

"Hopefully. Talk to you later."

-----------------

Mark wandered into the cool loft, tossing his bag aside. He had just returned from work and was currently very hungry. 

"Hey dude," Collins greeted him from the couch, up to his elbows in paperwork.

Mark smiled and walked into the kitchen, opening the icebox freezer

"Hey," he replied, pulling out a microwave dinner. He popped it in the microwave and set the timer. "What's up?" He moved back over to the living room and sat down in the easy chair.

"Not much. Trying to write a test, but unfortunately failing miserably."

Mark laughed and shook his head. "Nice. Why you decided to teach summer courses is beyond me."

"I don't know. Extra money's always good." He rummaged through a couple papers and bit the top of his pen.

"Yup," Mark replied, waiting patiently for his food. He watched Collins work intently on writing his test, and his mind drifted over to Roger. He hoped his friend was okay. He missed him and wanted him to come home. He'd be really impressed with all the changes around the loft, Mark was sure. He finally had some money of his own thanks to his job, so he and Collins decided it would be best if they fixed up the loft. They repaired a couple things to make the loft less of a hell hole, but they both told themselves that is was temporary until they could do a giant overhaul or just move. Mark had been feeling a lot less stressed and had been a lot happier over the last little while. He still felt like something was missing, though, and despite the fact that he knew exactly what it was, he didn't like to admit it.

The microwave beeped and removed Mark from his trance-like state. He made his way back to the kitchen and took out the small box of pasta, setting it on the island. He grabbed a fork from the drawer in the counter and plopped down on a stool. He noticed a piece of paper on the counter as he dug into his food. Curiosity and boredom overtook him, so he turned it around so it was facing him.

Maureen's play: Friday, July 26

Tickets, $20

Mark pushed around the spaghetti with a fork and glanced up at Collins. 

"You're going to Maureen's play?" he asked.

Collins looked up, shocked. "Um, I don't know. I was going to, but I might have to lead a study group. So maybe not," he replied quickly, looking back down at his work. He hoped Mark didn't feel offended.

"Oh…" Mark trailed off, absentmindedly piling his spaghetti into a ball in the centre of the packaging. "How is she?"

"She sounds fine. She says she's staying with April, so I bet they're wreaking all kinds of havoc," he laughed awkwardly.

"Yeah, I bet." He paused and glanced around the room before continuing. "What'd she say?"

"She said she's doing well. She said she misses you."

"Seriously?"

Collins nodded.

"…'Cause I kind of miss her, too."

Collins was surprised. "Really?"

"Yeah," Mark nodded. "I know I shouldn't. I'm with Lisa now, and that's great too, but there's a part of me that wants to be with her. Maybe I made a mistake breaking up with her."

"Mark, no…" Collins shook his head. "Remember how much stress she put you under before? You were sitting up at three in the morning waiting for her to come home all the time."

"I know," Mark rationalized. "I know, but…" he trailed off. He shrugged and turned his attention back to his food, though he was suddenly less hungry than before. "Never mind. It was stupid."

"Besides, you've got Lisa, right?"

"Yeah, and she's great. She really is. You're right, that was dumb. Sorry."

"Don't worry," Collins shrugged, turning his attention back to his work. "Be careful, though. Remember what happened last time."

Mark sighed. "I know." He peeked down at the paper on the island, mentally memorizing it.

-----------------

Review!


	28. Chapter 28

**Author's Note:** Alright, aright. Sorry about the (once again) huge delay in posting this. I've been having serious computer problems, been really busy with school rehearsals (we open in two days!) and other stuff, and having to rewrite this chapter when my disk flipped out on me. So long story short, enjoy.

**CHAPTER 28**

"I'm gone!" Maureen told April, whizzing through the living room before pulling on her sandals by the door. 

April looked up from her freshly painted toe nails and laughed. "Are there ever any times when you _aren't_ wearing heels?" she asked.

Maureen shook her head and flattened her hair in the mirror. "Nope. You're coming tonight, right?"

"Yes, Maureen," she reassured her friend.

"So if Collins is there too, we'll all go out for drinks afterwards, okay?"

"I know, Maureen," she sighed, placing the bottle of red nail polish down on the coffee table. "You've only said that about thirty times today. Someone's a little excited."

She shrugged and grimaced, unhappy that her hair wasn't doing what she wanted it to. "Maybe." She picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder. "For real this time," she laughed.  "Bye!" 

She disappeared out of the apartment and April was left alone. She waved her feet carefully up and down, waiting for them to dry. Glancing down to her watch, she frowned when she realized that giving herself a pedicure had not taken nearly as long as she'd hoped. Her head dropped back onto the back of the couch and she studied the ceiling impatiently. Roger was to be coming home within the next couple days, and she could barely contain herself. She had given Mark specific instructions to tell Roger to call her as soon as he could so she could go and see him.

Since she had returned home, April had fallen into the relatively same pattern that she left. She returned to work, and met with her parents. After a very long, exhausting conversation with them, scolding her for getting involved with drugs, and "a boy like that," and "such people," April took their lecture like a grain of salt, having heard similar ones many times before as a child. She was never good enough for her parents, and it drove her crazy.

April sighed and stood up, wobbling over to the kitchen, trying not to smudge her nail polish. She poured herself a glass of water and looked up when she heard a knock at the door. She placed it back on the counter and made her way back to the door, knowing very well that it was Maureen. She always forgot her keys, even when April reminded her to take them. She'd always come back about five minutes after she left, looking for them, just she'd leave just as quick as she came.

Swinging the door open, April squealed when she saw who was on the other side.

"Holy shit!" she screamed, jumping up onto Roger, wrapping her legs around his waist. Laughing, he spun her around in a circle before setting her back down on the ground. 

"Hey you," he smiled, kissing her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him again.

"I missed you!"

"Me too!" He peeked further into the apartment and grimaced. "You've become such a slob!" he laughed, picking her up in his arms. He dropped her gently on the couch and sat down next to her. She laughed and shook her head. 

"No, Maureen's been staying with me."

He frowned. "Ew…"

"Be nice," she chided him, kissing him. She crawled into his lap and cuddled up against you. "I can't believe you're really here."

"Me neither. It was way too long away from you."

April nodded, studying Roger's face as her hand traveled up into his hair. "Your hair is so long," she told him.

"I know, I need to get it cut. And dye it again. Now you know I'm not a real blonde."

"I figured," she laughed. "Like mine?"

He grinned and nodded. "It's shorter! And blonder. You look so… different."

"Different good, or different bad?" she asked skeptically.

"Different good, duh," he reassured her, laughing. "You look so gorgeous. I feel so blah next to you."

April giggled. "I'll take you to get your hair re-done," she told him. "Before anyone else sees you're not a real blonde."

"Yeah…" he trailed off, furrowing his eyebrows. "Why are we talking about hair?"

"I don't know," she replied. She hugged him tightly again, and his arms snaked around her wait. "I'm so glad you're home."

"Me too," he whispered. "Me too."

Maureen stared at herself in the mirror, making sure the back of her skirt was straight before sitting down carefully on the couch in the dressing room. She was currently backstage, waiting for the final show to start. Though she was sad to see it end, she was also happy that this chapter of her life was ending. She couldn't wait to start over, and this time she wouldn't mess up. She had made enough money working in the show, and she had even got a waitressing job, so she could move out on her own. She couldn't help but feel like a burden on April no matter how many times April told her she wasn't. There was only one bedroom in the apartment, so Maureen had been sleeping on the pull out couch in the living room. Roger obviously wouldn't want Maureen living with them when he came home, so she had been apartment hunting for something she could afford.

Maureen's thoughts were broken when there was a sharp knock at the door. The other female lead, Katie, got up to answer the door, and quickly returned with a bouquet of roses in her arms.

"Somebody loves you, Maureen," she laughed, handing her the flowers. Maureen stood up and smiled. "Who are they from?"

"Probably my friend Collins," she told her, smiling as she searched through the flowers for the card. "I can't believe he did this. He's so great. There are eleven," she laughed. She pulled the card out of the envelope and scanned it quickly, recognizing the messy, left-handed scrawl all too well.

_I'm here. –M_

Maureen frowned and hesitantly dropped the roses in the trash. She didn't know why she did it, but felt like it was the right thing to do.

"Why's you do that?!" Katie squealed. "They were gorgeous!" She gasped, tearing the card out of Maureen's hands. "Who's M?!"

"Forget about it," Maureen replied, trying to sound nonchalant. She took the card back from her friend. "There were only eleven." She shoved the card down her shirt before Katie could get a hold of it again. "Yeah, you go get that _now_."

"Who's M?" Katie repeated, dancing around the room.

"It's nobody," she told her, shoving her playfully on the couch. She checked her hair in the mirror then sat down on the couch too, that word resounding in her mind. _Nobody_.

Mark waiting anxiously in the nearly empty theatre lobby, shifting his weight from foot to foot and fiddling uncomfortably with the rose in his hand. He had been waiting in that same place since the show ended, waiting for Maureen to come out. He had witnessed other cast members coming out of the same door, greeting the friends and family who had come to see their last show, then leaving, but so far, no sign of Maureen.

Mark decided to give into his feelings and go and see Maureen. He knew that his relationship with Lisa wasn't going to work, so decided that if he got out of it now, it would be easier than later. When his mom caught wind of this, she refused to talk to her son. Instead of being offended, Mark understood this to be a pleasant break from his mother.

Suddenly, Mark snapped out of his thoughts when he saw the stage door open, and Maureen and another man came through. He watched awkwardly as Maureen hugged the man and he told her that'd he'd call before turning out into the box office where another man was waiting for him. She walked quickly across the lobby, almost missing Mark altogether.

"Maureen?" he called, stepping forward. She whirled around and took a small step back when she saw him.

"Hi."

"Hi," he replied, smiling weakly. "You were great up there." True, she wasn't the best actress in the world, but she sure had passion for it.

"Thanks," she smiled. "And thanks for the flowers."

He shrugged. "Welcome. Oh, this is for you," he told her, offering the rose to her. "It's the twelfth one…"

She reached out and took the flower from him. "That would make twelve. Thanks," she replied, looking up at him. "And thanks for the other flowers. You really didn't have to."

"No, I wanted to."

Maureen gave a half-hearted laugh and shuffled her feet. "Did Collins and April come too?"

Mark shook his head, almost apologetically. "Roger came home today, so April's with him, and Collins is running some study group for the summer school classes he's teaching."

"Oh…" she trailed off, a bit offended that the two people who told her they'd come to see her didn't.

"Do you want me to walk you home? It's really dark out."

Maureen laughed quietly and nodded, amused at his worry. "Sure."

They left the theatre and began to walk down the sidewalk in a comfortable silence. It didn't take long to get to her apartment since the theatre was only a couple blocks away, so when they got there they slowed to a halt and turned to each other.

"It was good to see you," Mark told her.

She nodded. "It was. I'm glad you came."

"Would it be okay if I called you sometime? We could go out for coffee or something…"

She smiled and nodded. "Yeah. I'd like that."

"Okay," Mark smiled. He glanced around the street quickly and looked back at Maureen. "I should get home, it's late. I'll talk to you soon, I guess."

"Yup," she smiled. "See you soon."

Mark watched her wander up the front steps and into the apartment and grinned, doing a small dance at the bottom of the stairs before heading towards the subway and back home.

Review, please!


	29. Chapter 29

**Author's note:** Thanks so much for the review, guys! They were so nice! My show opened the other day, and closing night is tomorrow. We've been doing great and it's a lot of fun. Enjoy & review, please!

****

**CHAPTER 29**

Mark wandered through the small café quickly until he found Maureen sitting at a table, a mug of coffee in front of her. He sat down and smiled.

"Hey," he greeted her breathlessly. She smiled back.

"Hi."

"You haven't been waiting here long, have you?" he asked, taking in the scene around him.

She shook her head. "Oh, no. I just got here a little while ago," she reassured him as she motioned towards her still full mug of coffee.

Mark and Maureen had been meeting frequently in the month since her show ended. They would get together for small dates, going out for coffee or ice cream. After talking and spending a few hours together, they'd both go back to their homes, usually with plans for another date. Both always made sure they just remained friends, though, not wanting to take any steps further until they were sure that they wanted the same thing.

"Good. How have you been?"

"Alright. You?" she asked, taking a sip of her coffee.

"I'm pretty good," he nodded. "How's your day been?"

She shrugged and blew gently on her coffee to cool it down. "Working, auditioning. Not finding much luck," she laughed quietly. "I tell you, it's harder than it looks."

"I can imagine," Mark smiled, fiddling with a napkin on the table.

Maureen cocked her head at him. "Aren't you going to get anything to drink?" she asked, looking over towards the counter.

He shook his head.

"Ugh, now I feel stupid," she laughed. "Why did you want to come here, then?"

"I didn't. You did," he grinned.

Maureen rolled her eyes jokingly. "Fine, I'll give you that. Hey, how's Collins?"

"Oh, he's pretty good. He's getting ready to go back to school. So's April."

"Yeah. Teacher's college, right?"

Mark nodded. "She wants to be an English and history teacher, which is pretty cool."

They sat in silence for the next couple minutes. They hadn't run out of things to talk to, they never did. Sometimes, though, they just preferred to sit in each other's company for a little while.

"Hey, did I tell you about how we fixed the loft?" Mark asked, breaking the silence.

"Mark, you could never 'fix' that hell hole," she laughed. "What did you do?"

"We painted a bunch of walls and fixed that broken window. Oh! And we even got an air conditioner!"

"Seriously?" she asked in disbelief.

He nodded. "It's great. It looks a lot better. Sometimes you still have to wait a couple minutes for the tap water to turn clear, but other than that it's alright."

"That's fun. Can I see it?"

Mark nodded again. "Sure. Collins will probably be there, too."

She smiled excitedly. "Okay! Can we go after I finish?"

"Yup," he replied, glancing down at his watch.

"Alright, I'm finished," she told him, pushing her mug forward.

He peered into it and laughed. "It's still half full."

"Ooh, Mark's an optimist," she laughed, covering the top of the mug with her hand and moving it away from Mark. "I don't know what you're talking about. I finished that," she grinned. "Besides, Collins is more important than my coffee."

"Let's go," he smiled, standing up. She jumped up and they walked quickly to the loft, Mark trying to catch up with Maureen, who was obviously very excited to see Collins again. When they got to the loft, they raced up the stairs, Maureen bolting up long before Mark.

"You lock the door now, too?" he heard her call from the top of the stairs. He remembered back when she and Roger lived with them, they never locked the doors because someone was always bound to be home.

"Only when nobody's home," he replied breathlessly, finally reaching the top of the stairs and grimacing.

She frowned. "Oh. Another time, I guess."

"Well, do you still want to see the new and improved loft?" he asked.

"Duh, Mark," she giggled, shoving him gently. "That's why we're here."

"Okay then," he laughed, opening the door for her.

She stepped in and smiled. "Wow."

"You like it?"

"Yeah. Everything looks so much cleaner and… cleaner."

Mark laughed and shut the door behind him. He grabbed her hand and tugged her over so that they were standing in front of the air conditioner lodged in one of the windows.

"How do you like this?" he asked, turned a random knob. Cold air came out and she laughed.

"Oh my God! Everything is so different. It looks great, Mark."

"Thanks," he smiled, walking into the kitchen. "Want anything to eat or drink?"

She shook her head and followed him, leaning onto the island. "No thanks."

"You sure?" he asked, leaning onto it, too.

"Yeah. That coffee did me in," she laughed, tracing patterns over the wooden top.

"So…" Mark started. "What's on tap for the rest of the day?"

"Another audition," she grimaced. "Good times."

"Good luck."

She gasped melodramatically and looked over at him. "You're not supposed to wish an actor good luck, Mark! You tell them to break a leg!"

"I never understood that," he laughed.

"Take it back!"

"No!"

"Please?" she pouted. "Don't you want me to get the part?"

"What part is it?"

She beamed. "Sally Simpson in _Tommy_!"

"Tommy?" he asked. "As in 'Tommy can you hear me?'"

"No," she replied sarcastically, "The other Tommy."

He laughed and nudged her in the side. "Fine, I take it back, but only if I can come see you in it when you get the part."

"'When I get the part?'" she asked skeptically. "Now you've jinxed me. You hate me," she pretended to sob onto his shoulder.

"Hardly," he laughed. "Okay, okay. Break a leg and I hope you _don't_ get the part."

She smiled and looked up at him. "That's better."

"Good," he replied quietly, gazing back at her. He slowly moved in and kissed her gently, placing a hand on her cheek. She was receptive at first but pulled away quickly.

"I have to go," she stammered, looking down at the ground. "See you later."

Mark watched her leave the loft and immediately felt like an asshole. He knew very well what Maureen was like, and for all he knew she was seeing somebody and now he was a party to her cheating. He sighed and flopped onto the couch and flipped the television on, trying to get his mind off Maureen.

Meanwhile, Maureen was walking down the street. She ran her fingers through her hair and sighed. She didn't know what to feel. Confusion rushed over her – she didn't want to hurt him again. She knew that he wouldn't be able to trust her anymore, but at the same time she wanted to badly to tell him how she felt – extremely elated that he just kissed her.

-----------------

Roger plopped down on the couch next to April, who had school supplies scattered over the coffee table.

"You really went all out, didn't you?" he laughed. "Did you really need all this stuff?"

She shrugged and turned her attention to Roger, cuddling up against him. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and she rested her head on his.

"Tired?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yes, but I start school soon!"

"You're looking _forward_ to it?" he asked, frowning. "That's gross. Nobody likes school, April."

"I don't. I'm just glad to be getting ready for a real job," she told him.

"Speaking of jobs…" Roger started. He picked up April's left hand and examined it. "I owe you one wedding ring."

"No you don't—"

He spoke louder. "Yes I do. And I promise I'll buy you the nicest one I can find. I just need a job first."

"Roger…"

"Shh," he laughed, covering her mouth with his hand. "I just want you to be happy."

She shook him off and swung her legs over his lap. "Just don't stress yourself out or anything."

"I won't," he promised her. "I just want my girl to be happy."

She smiled. "Are you going to call the Well Hungarians? You should play with them again."

"Maybe. We'll see. Right now, though, I just want to be with you."

"Apparently being clean makes you so much sweeter," she giggled. He faked a frown and nudged her gently.

"Not nice, Mrs. Davis."

She gasped and covered her mouth. "I'm so old! I'm a 'Mrs.'"

"Not old, just cute," he laughed, kissing her. The phone interrupted them and April pulled away, raising an eyebrow. She reached onto the side table and picked it up.

"Hello?"

_"April, this is your mother."_

"Hi, mom." She stifled a laugh at Roger, who made a face.

_"Your father and I want to take you and that boy to dinner."_

"Oh, I'm fine mom. How about you? Oh really, that's great–"

_"April, this isn't time for jokes."_

She rolled her eyes and linked hands with Roger. "Sorry. When?"

_"It will have to be in a couple weeks, we're booked."_

"Booked?" she repeated, surprised. "Thanks. No time for your own daughter?"

_"You're not our only priority, April. We have jobs – steady jobs, _not_ part-time jobs – and engagements that can't be moved."_

"The yacht club?" she asked testily.

_"April Maria Cecilia Francesca Hunter–"_

"Davis," April interrupted. "April Davis. None of that Maria Cecilia crap anymore. Are we going to set a date or not?"

_"Some time next month is the soonest we can have it."_

"That's fine. We'll call you."

April slammed the phone down several times on the phone dock before hanging up. She flopped onto Roger and frowned.

"I hate my parents."

Roger wrapped his arms around April. "Forget about them."

"They want to have _dinner_ with us," she told him in a mock-snooty voice. "They have to pencil us in sometime next month because they're way too busy with business meetings and cocktail parties at the country club."

"How did to such uptight, anal people have such a normal daughter?" he laughed.

She shrugged. "That's what happens when you're raised by an au-pair. I swear, I only saw my parents like, four times while I was growing up."

Roger wrinkled his nose and kissed April. "It's late. We should go to bed."

She nodded and stood up, pulling Roger up with her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close to him.

"Ignore them," he whispered. "They're idiots."

April sighed and turned around, walking to their bedroom. Roger picked her up and hoisted her over his shoulder, laughing, and let the bedroom door swing shut behind them.

----------------

Review please!


	30. Chapter 30

**Author's Note: **Thank you so much for the reviews. I'm glad you guys are enjoying this! You're all fabulous…

**Chapter 30**

April smoothed out her napkin over her lap and Roger stared at his water glass as they sat across the restaurant table from April's parents. It had been a month since they had called Roger and April, and they had finally set a date for their dinner plans. They demanded that it be at their country club, not letting April get her opinion in edgewise.

Roger and April sat uncomfortably across from the Hunters, not eating very much of their food. Roger had sat in complete silence, neither of her parents addressing him.

"We're glad to have you back, darling," Mrs. Hunter said in a sugar-coated voice. "We've missed you."

"I'm sure," she mumbled. Continuing brightly, she replied, "Glad to be back."

Her father nodded. "You're looking well."

"Thank you," she forced a smile, taking a sip of her water.

Mrs. Hunter sighed daintily. "I thought you were going to wear a dress."

Roger stifled a laugh by forking some food into his mouth as April rolled her eyes and looked back down at her lap.

"I _am_, mother."

"I meant a _nice _dress. Something more appropriate. It's summer, and that's a fall dress."

Roger took April's hand underneath the table, silently reassuring her. With a sudden sense of empowerment, April smiled and nodded.

"Next time, I promise," she appeased her mother, who smiled back suspiciously and turned back to her salad.

"So, Roger, is it?" Mr. Hunter asked.

Roger nodded and cleared his throat, surprised that he had actually made an effort to talk to him. "Yeah – yes," he corrected himself when April nudged him underneath the table.

"What do you do?"

He paused as he thought how to word his next statement. "I, uh, I'm a musician. I play in a band."

Both parents looked up, surprised, and raised an eyebrow.

"Really?" Mr. Hunter replied skeptically. "And what do you do in regards to a real job?"

"Mom," April interrupted loudly. "How's Monique?"

Her parents could talk for days about her cousin Monique. She was like the daughter they'd always wanted – smart, beautiful, and practically perfect in every way.

"Oh, she's doing well," her mother smiled. "Her twenty-first birthday was a few weeks ago. Andrea had us over to celebrate, it was just lovely. It's too bad you couldn't come."

"We weren't invited," she reminded her testily.

Ignoring her last comment, April's father continued.

"She's dating a boy named Trevor. She took him to meet her parents when they started to date so they could approve of him. He's going to become a doctor." He directed this last part at Roger.

"She's going to Paris to study with a tutor for six months, isn't that wonderful? Her parents are so proud. You should have done that while you were young enough," Mrs. Hunter finished.

April sighed. "I can't speak French."

"You used to be able to," her father told her.

"I didn't _want_ to go to Paris. If I wanted to go, I would have."

"Don't get jealous, April." Mrs. Hunter picked at her salad as she scolded her daughter.

She scoffed. "I'm not jealous! I just said I don't _want_–"

Roger cut her off by clearing his throat, and she quickly shut herself up as Roger wrapped his arm around the back of her chair.

"We'd prefer it if you kept your hands off of our daughter."

Roger stared back at Mr. Hunter with an infuriating smile and April slammed the top of the table with her hands, standing up.

"God! I cannot believe you!"

"April!" Mrs. Hunter hissed, noticing other patrons staring at their table. "Stop it!"

"No!" she yelled, pulling Roger up with her. "You two are horrible! Roger and I are married and I don't care who the hell you approve of. Thanks for lunch," she said sarcastically, pulling Roger away from the table.

She dragged Roger back outside and leaned against the brick wall of the building, ignoring the stares she was getting from the hostess and valet drivers.

"Oh my God!" she cried. "I am so sorry."

"Hey…" Roger trailed off, placing his hands on her shoulders.

"I can't even believe them. They're such assholes. I'm so sorry."

He shook his head and hugged her tightly, rocking her back and forth. "It's not your fault."

"Yes it is! I should have known they were going to do this," she sobbed into his shoulder.

"Shh." Roger wiped her tears from her face and kissed her cheek as she cried even harder. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and led her away from the door, afraid that her parents would storm out and yell at them.

"Let's go to the car," he suggested as they walked in that direction. She sniveled and nodded, whimpering as she leaned against Roger. They got into her small car and April continued to cry. Roger hugged her over the console in the middle and rubbed her back soothingly.

"I hate them," she sobbed into his shoulder.

"So it's okay if I hate them, too?" Roger asked quietly.

April nodded and laughed quietly. "How stereotypical, hating the in-laws. I hope your parents aren't that bad."

"Parent. Just my mom."

"Sorry," she frowned.

Roger shrugged. "It's okay. My mom had me really young, so she was the one who took care of me. I never even knew my dad."

"I didn't know that."

He shrugged again. "I didn't know your parents were assholes."

April laughed quietly. "Come to think of it, there's a lot of things I don't know about you."

"It's true."

"…But I want to know everything," she told him. "Because that's what married people do."

"Okay," he laughed, brushing the remaining tears from her face with his thumb.

"I know we kind of rushed into everything, but I really do love you."

"I love you too," he smiled. "What do you say we go home and get some real food? None of that fancy weird-tasting chicken."

"Cornish hen," she corrected him, grinning as she turned the car on.

Roger laughed and put on his seat belt, as well as a horribly snooty British accent.

"On tonight's menu we have Cornish gaming hen with pheasant and rabbit tart."

"Mmm," April giggled as she pulled out of their parking spot and drove down the winding dirt driveway to the road. "Yummy."

-----------------

Maureen yawned and tapped her fingernails along the surface of her kitchen table impatiently, waiting for Mark to return. He had been spending the last several nights at her place with her, where they'd talk everything through and just spend time together. He had stepped out a couple minutes earlier to run some errands and was due home any minute.

She heard a knock at the door and jumped up from her seat to answer it. She opened the door slightly and poked her head out.

"Did you get the stuff?" she whispered.

He nodded and shoved the brown paper bag into her hands, glancing around the hallway nervously. He shoved past her into the apartment and dove onto the couch, burying his head under the pillows.

"Hide it!" he yelled. "They're after us!"

Maureen looked around herself anxiously and slammed the door quickly, running into the kitchen. She ducked down behind the counters and dug through the bag, pulling out its contents.

She frowned. "Chocolate? Mark…"

"What?" he asked sitting up, his blonde hair disheveled. "It's like, the staple ice cream."

"Please," she scoffed, tossing the crumpled up bag at him. "You should have got bubble gum."

He laughed, fiddling with his glasses, trying to straighten them out. "What are you, ten?"

Maureen jokingly rolled her eyes and placed two bowls on the counter.

"I'm going to go and get changed. You want to scoop the ice cream?"

Mark nodded and got up from the couch, moving into the kitchen. Maureen sifted through her dresser drawers and pulled out her pyjamas.

"Hey, do you mind if I call my sister?"

Maureen shook her head and smiled. "Nope, go for it." She disappeared into the washroom as Mark picked up the phone and dialed while he pulled a couple spoons out of the drawer.

_"Hello?"_

"Hey, Cindy? It's Mark."

_"Marky! How are you?"_

He laughed as he began scooping ice cream. "I'm great, you?"

_"I'm good. Where are you? You're not at home? It's not your number on the call ID."_

Mark paused as he thought about what to say next. He hadn't told her that he was seeing Maureen again and knew that she probably wouldn't be happy about it, but that was the reason he decided to call.

"I'm at Maureen's…"

_"What?!__ Mark…_"

"I know. Just listen," he started, speaking lower. "She's different now."

_"Right.__ So she doesn't talk about herself a lot and she's shy?"_

"Shut up. Okay, so she hasn't changed _that_ much. She's still really loud and dramatic, but…"

_"Remember what happened last time?"_

"I know," he sighed. "Forget it. Why am I telling you this?"

Cindy remained silent on the other end. Mark placed the ice cream in the freezer and leaned against the fridge.

"Oh, come on. Don't pull a mom and ignore me because I broke up with Lisa. I know she was really stupid before, but I dunno. I guess I just can't stay away."

_"Well fine, but when she breaks your heart again don't come crying to me." _

"Thanks for the support," Mark told her sarcastically. "If you can't count on family, who can you count on, right?" He noticed Maureen coming out of the bathroom rubbing her eyes and smiled at her. "I've gotta go. I'll talk to you later."

_"Okay, but Mark, just remember what she did to you before…"_

Mark hung up the phone before he had to hear the rest of his sister's rant.

"Hey," he smiled, handing her a bowl of ice cream. Maureen flopped onto her bed, soon followed by Mark.

"This better be good," she told him, eyeing the ice cream suspiciously.

He laughed. "It will be. Trust me."

She swallowed a small spoonful of it and cuddled up against Mark, who wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"How was your day?" he asked.

"Um," she started, poking at the ice cream in her bowl. "Okay, long. My feet hurt."

Mark laughed and squeezed her shoulders gently. "Poor baby."

"Ugh, I hate waitressing," she complained, resting her head on Mark's shoulder. "It's the worst. There's at least one creepy old man who tries to pinch my ass every day."

"They just all want a piece of the young thing who's serving them their mashed potatoes."

"Eew," she laughed, pushing Mark's face away. "Never say that again."

"Okay, okay. Sorry, princess."

Maureen stuck her tongue out at Mark and kissed him on the cheek. "How was _your_ day?"

"Pretty good, busy as usual. Hey, can I take you out for lunch tomorrow?"

"Sure," she replied, shutting her eyes. "What time? I start work at two."

"Noonish? I can come here and pick you up if you want."

She nodded. "Sounds good." She placed her bowl on the ground by her bed and pulled the blankets over her. "Tell me how we met."

"What?" Mark laughed. "You were there."

"I know, but I like hearing it."

He sighed. "Alright. Well… I always used to go filming in the park, and most of the time when I was there, I'd see this really pretty girl on the swing set."

Maureen laughed. "Pedophile."

"No, you dork. I meant you. Anyway, every time I went to the park I'd see this pretty girl and she'd always smile at me, so I'd smile back. Then I'd go back home and edit my footage or whatever. Then one day, Roger convinced me to go out to a bar with him and Benny and a couple of his band mates, so I did. And who was our waitress? The pretty girl from the park!"

"Talk about a small world," she smiled sleepily.

"Indeed," he replied, resting his head against hers. "So the pretty girl said 'we have to stop meeting this way,' and she asked me out on a date. We went out a couple days later, and the rest is history."

Maureen nodded slowly, and Mark could tell she was almost asleep.

"Night, Mo," he whispered, kissing the side of her head gently. She moaned slightly and he smiled.

Mark kept telling people that Maureen was different now, and that she had changed over their time apart, but he wasn't sure if it was really true or if he was just trying to convince himself of it. He knew it would take a while for him to be able to trust her again, but at the same time he hoped that they could just put everything behind them and start over.

He finished off his ice cream as quietly as he could and placed it gently on the ground. He brushed a strand of hair off Maureen's face before pulling the blankets over himself and falling asleep, too.

_Here's to hoping…_


	31. Chapter 31

**Author's Note:** As in many stories, things are going to start speeding up. I don't know if that's going to signify a close ending or not, but just as a heads up. Enjoy!

****

**Chapter 31**

_October_

Roger rolled his eyes and rested his feet on top of the coffee table in the loft. He and Mark were alone, waiting for the others to return from work or wherever else they may be.

"Mark, stop," he complained, pushing Mark's camera out of his face. "Don't you have work or something?"

"I finish at five, genius," Mark laughed, placing his camera down on the coffee table. "Shouldn't you be at work, though? Mr. I'm-Too-Busy-Too-Hang-Out-With-My-Friends-Because-I-Have-A-New-Job?"

Roger furrowed his eyebrows and shoved Mark in the shoulder. "You're weird."

Mark pushed his glasses up on his nose and cocked his head at him. "_Shouldn't_ you be at work?" It was unusual for Roger to be free at seven o'clock in the evening. On any given day, he'd be working late at the record store he was hired at a month ago, and he definitely wasn't one to skip work.

"No," Roger grumbled. "I don't even work today, which is stupid because I asked for every fucking shift I could get."

"Relax, man. It's okay."

"No it's not! This isn't some stupid part-time job. I'm making money for two. Oh, and sorry, we can't all have our parents giving us money when we run out, Mark."

"You're just too stubborn to ask for help in the first place."

Roger scoffed. "I am not! I can do this on my own. I don't _need_ any help from anybody."

"Everybody needs somebody to help out."

"Maybe you do, but I don't. I'm not helpless."

"Shut up," Mark retorted lamely. He stood up from the couch and walked into the kitchen, pulling open the fridge and studying its contents.

Roger sighed and leaned his head back onto the couch. He didn't want to apologize, but figured he should. It wasn't his fault that everybody thought he was useless. "Sorry."

"It's okay," Mark replied unconvincingly, keeping his eyes glued on the food inside the refrigerator.

"No it's not," he frowned. "I'm just a jerk."

"Yeah, you are," Mark told him, shutting the fridge.

"I just want April to be happy."

"I know. You tell me all the time. 'Ooh, I want April to be happy! I want to buy her a wedding ring! She's so wonderful! I looooove her so mu–' Ow!" he cried as he was hit with the pillow that Roger flung at him. "You _are _a jerk," Mark laughed, picking up the pillow. He plopped back down next to Roger on the couch and hugged the pillow in his arms.

"Mark?" Roger asked quietly.

"Yeah?"

"I never hit on Maureen."

"Huh?"

"Remember before? Like, way before when I first found about that me and April were sick and you thought I tried to get Maureen in bed?"

Mark's gaze drifted off to the other side of the loft. "Yeah…"

"I didn't."

"I know."

He looked over at his friend. "You do?"

"Yeah," Mark nodded. "She told me."

"She did? When?"

"Recently. She said she felt really bad about it."

"I'm sure," he grumbled. "And you're not mad at her?"

Mark rolled his eyes. "No, she was just being honest. We're working things through. She's not like she was before."

"Oh, please. She's _exactly_ like she was before. She isn't different, Mark. People don't change that drastically over a couple months."

"Okay, fine. Whatever," Mark surrendered. "She's not different. She's just… I don't know… not cheating on me."

Roger laughed and crossed his arms over his chest. "You sure about that one?"

"God, Roger!" Mark yelled, jumping up from his seat. "Why is it people always have to be happy for you but you can't even _try_ to pretend to be happy for me? You're always whining about everything and practically begging people for a pity party—"

"I am not!" he interrupted Mark, standing up, too. "I never asked for you to feel anything! Look, sorry if I'm not happy that you're dating the Super-Bitch, but can you really blame me? She's never been anything but rude to me and she's the last person I'd want to see my best friend with!"

Mark froze and looked at Roger. "I'm your best friend?"

Roger averted his eyes awkwardly and sat back down on the couch. "Yeah I guess. I mean… if you still want to be."

Mark sat down in the chair across from Roger and shrugged nonchalantly, both friends trying to be manly about the situation. "Yeah. Sure, I guess."

"Cool," Roger nodded before clearing his throat. "That was a really girly moment, wasn't it?"

Mark shook his head and laughed. "Yeah."

"I feel like we should go to Hooters or something."

"Maybe," he laughed. "I'd probably get more action there than I've got in a long time, anyway."

"Huh?"

"Nothing," Mark replied quickly. "Never mind."

Roger grinned. "Is Mark not getting any?"

"No, nothing," he replied, blushing and covering his face.

"You mean to tell me that you're with Maureen, the same Maureen who tried to get you to do it on the Staten Island ferry, and she isn't putting out?"

"No!" Mark whined, finally giving in. "No…"

"Seriously?!" Roger laughed. "That is the funniest thing I've ever heard!"

Mark glared at him and Roger immediately quieted down.

"…I mean, from my perspective. For you, though, I'm sure it sucks…"

"Shut up, Rog," Mark laughed. "She wants to take things slow or whatever."

He rolled his eyes.

"Right, and I gave birth to a puppy yesterday," he replied as the door opened and Collins walked in, dropping his bag by the door.

"Hey guys, what are you doing here?"

"Good to see you," Roger greeted him sarcastically.

"I live here, too," Mark laughed. "I just… haven't been here for a while."

Collins shook his head and walked into the kitchen and started rummaging through it for some food.

"We told everybody to meet here tonight," Roger grinned. "Hope you don't mind."

He shrugged. "Nope, it's not like I have anything else to do. Is April coming by? I have some stuff she asked me for."

Roger shook his head. "Nah, she has some assignment to work on, so she's at the library. Fun shit, eh?"

"Oh yeah," Collins laughed, pouring some Captain Crunch into a cereal bowl for himself. "School is fun shit. So she's enjoying herself?"

"Yup, she really likes it. She's crazy, if you ask me."

Collins laughed. "Oh, you have no idea what you're missing." He sat down on the couch next to Roger and the three friends returned to conversation. "If I give you the stuff could you pass it on to her?"

Roger nodded. "Are you having an affair?" he asked mock-seriously.

"Not quite," Collins laughed. "Some stuff about essays and citing sources. Oh, and some—"

Mark and Roger cut him off, pretending to be asleep, snoring loudly. Collins flipped them off and swallowed a spoonful of his Captain Crunch.

"Losers," he laughed.

Suddenly, the door swung open and an extremely elated Benny and Mimi burst into the room, grinning.

"We have news!" Mimi squealed, wiping tears from her face. All three men looked over at her, Mark and Roger standing up.

"We're getting married!" Benny laughed as Mimi held up her jeweled hand for the boys.

"Look!" she giggled. "Look!"

Benny picked her up and spun her around as the other three stared at the couple in disbelief.

"Honestly?" Roger stammered, the only one out of the group who could think of something to respond with.

Mimi nodded, grinning.

"Yeah, we know she's young…" Benny started.

"But we love each other!" Mimi finished for him. "I'm engaged! I've never been engaged! This is so much fun!"

Roger shook his head and laughed before hugging Mimi. Mark and Collins shook Benny's hand, congratulating him.

"Wow, that's great news!" Collins exclaimed, still slightly skeptical.

"Yeah," Mark agreed. "Congrats, you guys."

"Thanks!" Mimi grinned.

"I don't think we have any champagne…" Collins started, walking into the kitchen. He pulled open the fridge and took out a couple bottles of beer. "But with this do?"

Mimi came up behind him and took two out of his hands. "Of course it will." She walked back over to the couch, right past Benny who had his hand out to receive a beer, and set both bottles carefully in her lap.

"I can't believe you guys are actually getting married," Mark noted, triumphantly beating Roger out for the chair by the couch.

"Yeah, 19 years old and already someone's old lady," Roger teased.

"Shut up," she laughed, taking her extra bottle out of Benny's hands after he had managed to wrestle it away from her. "You're already married, too, you know."

He frowned and took the beer that Collins was offering him. "Shit, I forgot. Fuck, I'm old."

"How do you forget you're married?" Mark asked, frowning.

"I don't know," he shrugged, before adding in quickly, "Don't tell April I said that!"

"Blackmail," Benny suggested to Mark, wrapping an arm around Mimi's shoulders. Mark laughed and nodded, taking a sip of his beer, when without warning, Maureen entered the loft, announcing her return.

"I got mugged!"

A collective gasp came from the group and Mark and Collins got up and led her to the couch, Benny and Mimi standing up to give her room.

"What happened?" Mark asked, sitting down next to her and taking her hand.

She whimpered and collapsed into Mark's chest. "I sort of got mugged."

"What happened?!" Collins yelled, shocked and completely unaware that he was repeating Mark.

"Oh my God, chica are you okay?" Mimi frowned, kneeling in front of her friend. Maureen nodded and flopped her hands into her lap.

Mark stroked the side of her head and furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean 'sort of'?"

"I don't know," she whined. "Holy shit."

"Are you hurt?" Collins asked, sitting down on the coffee table in front of her and holding her hands.

She shook her head. "No…"

"Well what happened?" Benny repeated again as he slapped Roger, who was laughing, in the shoulder.

Maureen sighed and grimaced. "I don't know, I was waiting for a cab and this guy ran up to me and pushed me and was all 'give me your money, bitch!' and I fell to the ground, hitting my knee on the way down. So I was rubbing it and being all, 'ow', and he got all surprised and apologized and helped me up. Then he hailed a cab for me and helped me in and sent me on my way."

The group stared at her before starting to laugh slightly.

"So he didn't really mug you?" Mark asked, confused.

Maureen shook her head. "No, he was really kind of nice."

"Oh my God," Mimi snorted, covering her mouth. "Aw, sweetie, I'm sorry, but that was the funniest thing I've heard all day."

"Are you okay now?" Mark asked. Maureen rested her head on his shoulder and nodded.

"Yup," she replied calmly as if nothing happened.

Collins laughed quietly. "Well babe, we're celebrating. Do you want a beer?"

"Do you even _know_ me?" she laughed, standing up from the couch and following Collins into the kitchen. "What are we celebrating?"

"I'm getting married!" Mimi screamed, scampering into the kitchen. Maureen whirled around and greeted her with a hug, both women jumping up and down squealing uncontrollably.

"Oh my God!" Maureen laughed. "That's so amazing! To who?!"

Mimi immediately stopped jumping and stared at Maureen, the rest of the group doing the same as realization washed over her.

"You're kidding me, right?" Mimi asked.

Maureen nodded casually. "Duh. Oh my God!" They hugged again. "Do you have a date set? Do you know what your dress is gonna look like?!" Maureen asked quickly, smiling.

Collins nudged her in the shoulder and handed Maureen her beer as he returned to the living room.

"They just got engaged, Mo. I doubt she's had much time to plan."

Mimi shook her head at him. "Please, I've known all that stuff since I was like, eleven. Well, I've always wanted to get married on Valentine's Day, I think it would be really romantic."

Benny rolled his eyes behind her back and the men laughed as Mimi went on to describe her dream wedding to Maureen, who didn't hesitate to offer her own opinions.

"Boy, am I glad I missed all that with April. She doesn't even want anything like that."

"Doesn't she want a ring?" Mark asked.

Roger shrugged. "Nope, that's my own thing. She keeps telling me she doesn't want anything," he laughed.

"You hit the jackpot, man," Benny shook his head. "I don't have enough money for _that_."

"You're just cheap," Roger commented. He corrected himself when Benny shot him a glare. "Sorry, _thrifty_. And looking quite handsome, might I add," he winked jokingly.

Benny shook his head as the phone began to ring. Collins got up to answer it.

"Hello? Yes, just a minute, please."

He covered the mouth piece and stuck the phone out in Mark's direction. "It's for you, man."

Mark got up to answer it, trying to dodge the girls to his right, and picking the phone up out of Collins' hand.

"Hello?"

_"Hey, Mark, it's Michael."_

"Oh, hey! What's up? Is something wrong?" It was strange for his brother-in-law to be calling him.

_"Oh, no, everything's great! Cindy just had the baby! Eli Lewis, six pounds, four ounces."_

"Oh my God!" Mark grinned. "That's great! Congratulations!"

_"Thanks!" _he laughed. _"You'll have to make it down for the party at your mom's next week. She's already trying to decide what she'll make for lunch."_

"Oh, well… as much fun as that sounds, I think she and Cindy are probably the last people who'd want to see me right now. We're not on the best of terms."

_"Yeah, I've heard," _he laughed. _"Women. Anyway, I'd better go get changed out of this stupid hospital gown."_

"Yeah, sounds like a plan. Talk to you later."

_"Bye Mark."_

Mark hung up the phone and put it back on the island.

"Everything okay?" Maureen asked, taking his hand.

He nodded. "I'm an uncle again. Eli Lewis."

Mimi shook her head and laughed. "Hope he's good lookin'."

"Mimi!" Benny chided her, laughing.

"What?" she defended herself, plopping down into his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Never mind baby," he laughed, nuzzling his face into her hair.

Mark wrapped his arms around Maureen's waist and pulled her closer to him, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"So you're sure you're okay?" he asked. "Not hurt? Or like, emotionally traumatized or anything?"

"No," she laughed. "Promise." She stuck her pinkie finger out, and Mark linked his though it. He smiled and looked her in the eye.

"Good." He kissed her gently, but was interrupted when he felt something hit his back.

"Ow!" he whined. He and Maureen looked down and found Collins' cereal spoon clatter onto the ground under them. They looked back up at them, a collective "Get a room!" emerging from the group.

* * *

Review, please!


	32. Chapter 32

**the-fraulien**: I dunno about a quick ending or not, I think I'm just gonna go with the flow and see what happens, lol. I'll try to warn you, though! =)

And look out for **Letters to You**, a fic that I'll be co-authoring with Eponine54, which will be along in a little while!

* * *

**Chapter 32**

_October_

Maureen awoke groggily and shut her eyes tightly from the sunshine streaming through her studio apartment. She groaned and rolled over onto her stomach, burying her face in her pillow.

"Morning," Mark called cheerily from the couch. He dropped the television converter onto the seat and leapt onto the bed, landing beside Maureen.

"Ugh, Mark," she whined. "What are you doing?"

"Waking you up," he grinned, wrapping an arm around her waist. She cuddled up against him and shut her eyes again.

"What time is it?" she asked sleepily.

Mark glanced over to the clock on the microwave and squinted.

"Um, 8:30?"

"As in, in the morning?" Maureen asked incredulously.

He laughed and hugged her tighter. "Yes, in the morning."

"Why are you waking me up so early?" she yawned. "You're crazy."

"Am I?" he asked, laughing maniacally.

"Shut up," she grinned. "It's too early in the morning for that."

"Want anything to eat?" he asked, crawling out of the bed and walking into the kitchen.

"No."

He turned back to her. "Maureen!" he whined.

"What?" she asked, kicking the blankets off of her. She got up and hopped up onto the counter in the kitchen by Mark.

"When was the last time you ate a full meal?" he asked, staring her down.

"What do you mean?" she giggled. "You took me out for dinner the other night."

He sighed. "You ordered a salad then you didn't even eat the whole thing! I'm worried about you…"

"Don't be, Marky. I'm fine."

"No you're not," he insisted. "You're so skinny. I don't want you to fade away."

She laughed. "I won't."

"Maureen," he frowned. She straightened up at his serious tone and looked down at her feet.

"I don't know why you're not eating, but I know it's nothing new." He placed his hand under her chin and lifted her face up. "I want you to be healthy."

"I _am_ healthy," she told him quietly. "It's not a big deal."

"Yes it is." He took her hands and kissed them. "Please, Maureen."

"Please what?" she asked, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Let me make you a doctor's appointment," he tried, noting the skepticism in her eyes.

She shrugged and shook her head quickly. "I don't need one."

"For me?" he asked meekly. "I just want peace of mind. I really am worried about you, beautiful."

Maureen sighed and shrugged again, thinking about a decision. She gazed back at Mark whose eyes were hopeful.

"Fine," she smiled. "For you, I guess."

He wrapped his arms around her waist and hugged her tightly.

"Thank you," he whispered into her hair.

She rubbed his back and forced a small smile. "Welcome."

Mark laughed and picked Maureen up off the counter, carrying her over to the bed where they both flopped down.

"Weirdo," she giggled, getting back underneath the covers. "Is a window open? It's chilly."

He shrugged, got under the blankets and pulled her closer to him, inhaling the comforting scent of her shampoo.

"Aren't you supposed to be at work?" Maureen asked, suddenly more aware of the time.

Mark shook his head. "It's Saturday, babe. No work today. Anyway, I start work at ten. It's not even nine," he laughed.

"You know what I mean."

She sighed and rubbed her eyes again then sat back up, slumping forward. Mark sat up, too, and rubbed the back of her neck gently. She moaned quietly and smiled, so Mark started kissing her neck, moving slowly to her lips. His hand traveled down her arms and he placed his hands on her waist, leaning back onto the bed. He untied the drawstring on the sweatpants she wore as pyjamas, but she pushed him away.

"Mark…"

Mark sighed and looked down. "Not yet?"

She shook her head slowly, biting her bottom lip. "Not yet."

"Okay," he nodded.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and frowned sympathetically. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"When you're ready," he shrugged, trying to act comfortable with the situation. "It's okay."

Maureen nodded sadly and rubbed her eyes, shutting them again with no intention of falling back asleep.

"What happened, Maureen?"

"Huh? What do you mean?" she asked.

Mark thought carefully before speaking. "You used to be so… physical. Now you shy away whenever I try and touch you. What did I do?"

She shook her head and sat back up, facing Mark. "Nothing. Oh, nothing, I swear. It wasn't you," she reassured him, placing a gentle hand on his cheek.

"There's got to be a reason," he prodded.

Maureen gave a weak one shoulder shrug and shifted her gaze away from Mark.

"See? Please say. You can tell me anything you know."

Devouring the words and nodding slowly, she looked back at Mark and frowned. "I had an abortion."

The television seemed to mute itself and the fridge must have stopped running. All Mark could hear was silence all around him.

"W-what?" he stammered.

"I screwed up so bad, Mark. I'm sorry."

Mark was floored. "Was it mine—ours?"

She looked down and shook her head, not able to meet Mark's eyes. "No," she told him quietly.

"I _knew_ you were cheating on me. I think I always knew. But even when you flat–out told me, I still didn't want to believe it…"

"Mark, no."

He stared back at her, his eyes almost begging her to tell him that it was all some elaborate practical joke.

"It was while we were broken up," she frowned, realizing that it didn't make the situation any better.

"When you did all that stuff?" he asked.

She nodded slowly. She wished she could have told Mark under better circumstances.

"Were you okay?" he asked after an awkward moment of silence.

"Yeah," she whispered.

He sniffed and moved closer to her. "You sure? You didn't get sick or anything?"

"No, I was fine," she told him.

"Good," he nodded processing all the information she had thrown at him. "Good." He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed her forehead. "I'm sorry."

"Me too. About everything. Everything I ever did to you."

He shook his head. "Me too."

"It's just… you do something to me Mark. You totally numb my senses or something. When I'm with you I just feel so different. You make me want to be a better person," she laughed quietly, "As stupid as that sounds."

Mark hugged her tighter. "You're perfect. You don't need to change for anybody."

"I love you, Marky."

"I love you too."

They lay like that for a long while, both losing track of the time. A sharp knock at the door startled them out of their reverie and Maureen reluctantly sat up.

"I'll get it," she yawned. Mark nodded and pushed himself up on his elbows.

"I'm gonna get something to eat."

"Sure," Maureen smiled, shuffling over to the door.

Mark slowly got out of bed and stretched his arms up over his head. He took a short trip to the kitchen and pulled open the fridge, studying the very few objects in it. Maureen really worried him sometimes, and for some reason, he always expected the worst when it came to her.

"Oh my God!" he heard her laugh. He glanced over to her and was taken aback when he saw her carrying a bouquet of flowers. They weren't from him.

"Did you do this?" she asked, setting them down on the counter. She wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled up at him as he shook his head.

If they weren't from him, who were they from? Was Roger right – was Maureen cheating on him again?

"Oh my God," she repeated herself, laughing as she read the card.

"What?" he asked, placing his arms around her waist and reading the card over her shoulder, "Your mugger sent you flowers?!" he laughed. "What the hell?"

She giggled. "I know! What the hell kind of mugger has money to buy me flowers with in the first place?"

"I don't know. How did he know where you live?"

She shrugged just as she peeked into the wrapping around the flowers, finding her wallet.

"I was wondering where that went," she thought out loud, letting out a small laugh. "This is so weird!"

"Yeah," Mark nodded. He laughed and moved back to the fridge, relieved.

* * *

Mark and Maureen walked down the dimly lamp-lit street, hand-in-hand. They were returning from a small get together at a nearby bar with a few members of the cast in her performance of _Tommy_. The group left at the same time for the most part, having an early rehearsal the next day. Every couple steps, they would stop. Maureen's arms would snake around his neck and she'd pull him closer to her, and Mark would whisper sweet nothings before leaning in and kissing her. By the time they reached the door, Maureen was already trying to pry Mark out of his jacket in vain. He struggled to unlock the door to her apartment as she wrapped her arms around his waist and planted kisses along his shoulders. He finally got the door unlocked and they stumbled inside, swinging the door shut with their feet. Mark's fingers wound into her hair and Maureen tried to kick off her shoes. They managed to pull of each other's jackets, leaving them tossed on the floor, forgotten.

"I love you..." Mark murmured, tearing himself from Maureen for a brief moment. She nodded and kissed him again.

"You too," she whispered. "I love you." She cupped Mark's face in her hands and smiled, brushing her lips against his gently.

Maureen took his hand and twirled herself around, leading him into the bedroom. She pulled him to her and kissed his face -- his eyes, his cheeks, his temples -- everywhere but his lips. He desperately tried to bring his lips to hers, but failed as she moved quickly, moving down his shoulder, then back up his neck.

They both sat down on the bed and Maureen pulled away. She rested her head on Mark's shoulder as he rubbed her arms and kissed the back of her head, surprised at the sudden change in intensity. She gently slid her arms over his back and shut her eyes.

"Tell me you'll never leave me," she pleaded.

He moved back onto the bed, pulling Maureen with him and shaking his head. "Never," he whispered. "Not if you don't want me to."

"I don't want you to," she whispered back, kissing him.

"Then I won't," he replied simply. He kissed her back and linked his fingers together with hers. She slowly moved his hands to the hem of her shirt and closed his fingers around the edge before moving her arms around his neck as she pulled herself closer to him.

"Is this all right?" Mark murmured, fiddling anxiously with her shirt.

She nodded without a moment of hesitation.

"Of course."

* * *

_"Bye mom," April smiled, kissing her mother on the cheek from the backseat of her parents' car._

_"Bye sweetie," she replied, smiling. "Bye Roger. It was good to see you."_

_He smiled. "You too. Thanks for the ride, Sir."_

_Mr. Hunter nodded, smiling at Roger and April in the rearview mirror. "Anytime, son. We'll see you soon."_

_"Definitely," April nodded, taking Roger's hand. "Bye daddy."_

_"Bye," he replied, watching the couple get out of the car as they shielded themselves from the pounding rain outside. They ran up the stairs to the front door, skipping steps on their way up, laughing. They waited at the door and waved as the Hunters drove off, honking. _

_Roger wrapped his arms around April and kissed her, but she pulled away._

_"It's raining!" she yelled, stomping her feet and laughing. "What are we doing out here?!"_

_"I don't know!" Roger yelled back, a rolling thunder seemingly replying in the distance._

_April giggled and shivered, and Roger placed his arm around her shoulders in a futile attempt to keep her warm. She squeezed out her soaked hair and walked through the door that Roger held open for her into the lobby._

_"Brr," she giggled. Roger pressed the call button for the elevator and rubbed some warmth into April's exposed arms._

_"Oh, shit," she frowned. "I forgot my purse in their car."_

_Roger shrugged. "We'll call them and leave a message when we get inside."_

_Nodding, April smiled. "You're obviously the brains of the couple."_

_He laughed and shook his head as they stepped onto the elevator._

_"What do you want for dinner?" Roger asked as they ascended to their floor._

_She shrugged and leaned against him. "I don't know. Want to order in? I don't feel like making anything," she laughed._

_"Sounds good since I just can't cook."_

_April laughed and patted him on the chest. "Ain't it the truth."_

_"Not nice," he murmured, kissing the side of her head._

_She pushed him away and skipped out of the elevator, laughing and smiling. She stopped in front of their door and blocked it._

_"Do you have your keys?"_

_Roger nodded._

_"Too bad because you can't go in," she laughed._

_"Oh no?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. Somehow, the door behind her had opened. He walked right past April into the room, pulling her in behind him. They were shocked to find papers strewn across the apartment and a broken dish lying in the middle of the floor. The dining room table and chairs were soaking wet from the rain pouring in from a window left carelessly open._

_"Fuck," Roger muttered as he rushed over to the open window and struggled to shut it, failing, finding out the hard way that it was stuck. April ran to the window, and together they managed to get the window shut, along with getting even wetter and windblown. _

_April winced and wiped the rain off her face. "Oh my God," she frowned, falling to her knees and crawling around on the ground, trying to distinguish the papers on the floor._

_"Are they important?" Roger asked, on the ground and studying the papers as well._

_"I think so," she replied, squinting at them. "Oh shit, yeah they are. They were my kids' essays on the Lord of the Flies. Fuck," she whined, tears forming in her eyes. She sat down on the ground and sniffed back the overwhelming feeling to cry._

_"Hey," Roger started. "Don't do that, it's alright. We'll dry them out and everything'll be fine, okay?" he asked her, rocking her back and forth as she cried into his shoulder._

_She nodded and wiped her eyes, giving him a watery smile. "Okay."_

_"You go get changed," he told her. "Get out of that wet dress and blow dry your hair and I'll clean up out here and order the food, okay?"_

_She nodded again._

_"Are you okay with Chinese?"_

_"Yeah," she told him, standing up and wiping her cheeks dry. "Thank you baby."_

_"No problem," he smiled._

_She smiled back at him and turned around, walking into their bedroom. She shut the door behind her and glanced around the room, walking over to the bookshelf on the wall opposite their bed. She examined everything closely, running her finger over the intricately designed frame of their wedding portrait, the newspaper clipping advertising the Well Hungarians' gig at CBGB's, and photo albums, with photos ranging from her and Roger's trips to Niagara Falls and Europe to visiting Maureen in the hospital when she had her first baby. Her glance caught upon the diamond ring on her finger. This brought a smile to her face as she was reminded of the day Roger gave it to her. _

_She sighed and turned back around, peering out the window at the rain that was slapping against the windows in sheets, lightning and thunder accompanying it closely. Somewhere nearby a baby started to cry loudly. Wincing, she dug through her dresser, pulling out a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt. She peeled off her drenched dress and clipped her hair up behind her head, quickly changing into the warmer clothes. Carefully, she picked her dress up off the ground and put it on a hanger, hanging it gently on the closet door to air-dry. She removed one of Roger's sweatshirts out of the closet and pulled it on, aching with the sudden warmth it provided her with._

_She slid through the door leading to the living room and smiled when she saw Roger holding the baby in his arms, rocking it back and forth and singing it back to sleep, a blue bassinette somehow appearing in the middle of the room. _

_April was lucky that he loved her so much. _

_She quietly went into the bathroom and pulled out the hairdryer from the cupboard underneath the sink. She plugged it in and set it down in the sink, removing the clip from her hair and combing her fingers through it, wincing when she would discover a knot._

_"Ow," she muttered, yanking her fingers through them. She shook her hair out and picked up the dryer, flipping it on and moving around her head._

_She watched closely as every strand of blonde hair turned lighter as it dried. Once finished, she unplugged the hairdryer and returned it under the sink, running her fingers through her messily tousled hair. _

_Gazing half-consciously at herself in the mirror, her glimpse caught upon the reflection of the familiar hot pink object in the shower. Whirling around so she could examine closer, April moved nearer to it as if it was the first time she had ever seen it. She picked it up, running her finger along the silver blades, whimpering when her finger began to bleed. She shook her finger and stuck it in her mouth, feeling a new set of tears prickling at the back of her eyes as the razor fell from her hand into the white ceramic tiled floor. Getting down on her hands and knees, she picked it up again, holding it up to the light so it reflected off the silver blades._

_April smiled and found herself on a mission. She stood back up and rolled the sleeve of her sweatshirt up, exposing her arm. Calmly, she brought the razor up, up, up, then—_

April sat up in a cold sweat, rubbing her eyes and glancing around the dark bedroom. There was no bookcase, no soaking wet dress hanging on the closet door and no rain pounding against the windows. She panted, gasping for breath and felt heavy tears rolling down her cheeks uncontrollably.

She felt aimlessly around the bed for Roger, unable to see out of her clouded eyes. He grunted and moved, opening his eyes slowly.

"April?"

She brought her knees up to her chest and sobbed into them, unable to respond.

"April," he repeated. "What's wrong?"

He sat up quickly and tucked her blonde hair behind her ears, trying to get her to face him.

"Are you okay?"

Shivering, April collapsed against him. He wrapped his arms around her, thoroughly confused.

"Roger..." she whispered hoarsely.

"Shh, I'm here," he reassured her, rocking her back and forth and stroking the back of her head. "I'm here. You're okay."

She nodded and clutched the blankets around her tightly.

"What happened?" he asked carefully.

April pulled away quickly and shook her head, wiping away her tears with shaky hands.

"Bad dream," she shrugged, trying miserably to be calm about the situation.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" he asked. "It helps."

Shaking her head again, April turned away from Roger and pulled the covers tightly around her.

"No, I'm okay," she sighed shakily.

"Are you sure?" he asked, trying to turn her back to him. "April, come on."

She shook her head violently. "No, I'm okay. It was stupid. G'night."

"Alright," Roger replied, though he was definitely not convinced. "Night," he told her, staring at her as her whole body shook as she cried herself back into a fitful slumber.


	33. Chapter 33

**Author's Note:** Thank you for the reviews again, as usual! I'm glad people still like this.

**Chapter 33**

_November_

April shuddered and tightened the fleece blanket around her shoulders, basking in its comfort. She took another sip of her warm milk and swallowed hard, trying to forget about the horrible nightmare she had just a few minutes earlier; the same nightmare she had been having almost every night for the past month. She woke up, as usual, in a cold sweat, practically gasping for breath at the memory of what just happened. The dream was very similar every time she had it. It was always raining outside, and bad things happened – she'd forget her keys somewhere, she wouldn't be able to find the ringing telephone, she would fail a test – then Roger would be completely supportive and help her out. There'd usually be a baby, a boy, that he'd be singing back to sleep. And the dream would always end right before April slit her wrists.

She put her feet up on the coffee table and crossed her arms over her chest. She still hadn't told Roger about the nightmare. She had perfected the art of waking up in the middle of the night silently and falling back asleep without him noticing. She was too afraid to tell him. He had been so busy and stressed with work and was so intent on having the perfect life together. She didn't want to mess up his plans.

She pulled a pack of cigarettes out from under the couch cushion and removed one from the box. As long as she was getting up in the middle of the night, she'd need something to do. She stood up from the couch and wandered into the kitchen, pulling a lighter off the top of the fridge. Roger wouldn't look in either of those places. She lit it and took a long drag from it, coughing loudly when she inhaled too much.

"Shit," she muttered, hearing Roger call her from the bedroom. She put the cigarette out in the sink and hurried back over to the couch.

"April?" he called drowsily, emerging from the bedroom. "What are you doing out here?"

She shrugged calmly and wrapped the blanket around her shoulders again. "I couldn't sleep."

"It's three in the morning," he informed her, flopping down next to her. "Why can't you sleep?"

"How should I know?" she replied bitterly. "I'm just not tired."

He nodded, still half asleep. "You've been getting up in the middle of the night a lot lately."

"What do you mean?" she asked defensively, eyeing him suspiciously and crossing her arms again.

"You get out of bed a lot. Why?"

"No I don't."

He sighed and rubbed his eyes, blinking at April. "Yes you do. You just don't think I notice."

She shrugged again and ignored his questions.

"Is something wrong?"

Blinking back tears furiously, she shook her head. Her blurry eyes struggled to focus on the clock on the VCR as Roger moved closer to her on the couch.

"April, tell me. Remember? Married people tell each other everything."

She shrugged and tightened the blanket around her. "I had a bad dream."

Laughing, Roger replied, "Is that all? All this over a bad dream?"

April shook her head and wiped her eyes. "You don't understand."

"Then help me," he told her quietly.

She took a deep breath and let it out in a big sigh. "It was a special kind of bad dream."

"Special?" Roger repeated. "What does that mean?"

"Do you remember when I told you that we were sick?"

Roger nodded slowly, looking down at his hands. "Yeah."

April looked away from Roger and tucked her feet underneath her.

"I never told you, and I know you're going to be mad, but I was really depressed and scared and I was sort of suicidal and I almost killed myself. That's what the dream is about." She spit out the words and let them spill out quickly, not bothering to try and make them coherent.

Roger stared back at her.

"What?"

She turned back to him, biting her bottom lip.

"Why didn't you tell me that?"

April gave a small shrug as felt her eyes well up with tears. Roger stood up and began pacing the living room, sharply stopping and looking at her.

"April, answer me!" he yelled.

"Fuck, I don't know," she replied, looking down into her lap. "I don't know!" she screamed.

"What the hell do you mean, 'you don't know'?!" He began to pace again. "How could you keep this from me for so long? You're the one who is always giving me that bullshit about telling each other everything! And now you're going and doing this? Who the hell do you think you are? What the fuck is your problem, April?"

He whirled around and glared at her as she sobbed silently into her hands.

"Oh my God…" Roger breathed, a horrible feeling washing over him. He lowered his head and made his way back over to April, enveloping her in a hug and she reluctantly fell against him.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I'm sorry."

Her arms snaked around his neck as she cried into his shoulder.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, feeling like the biggest asshole ever.

April nodded and cried harder, more at the memory of her dream than at Roger screaming at her. When she finally calmed down, she pulled away from Roger and wiped her cheeks dry.

"I'm sorry," he repeated. "I'm an idiot."

"Yeah…" she trailed off, sniffing back the rest of her tears as Roger hugged her again and pulled her onto his lap.

"So," he began, his comment hanging heavily in the air. "What… what now?"

She shrugged and cleared her throat. "I don't know."

"I don't know either," he sighed. "What could we do?"

"Well, I was thinking," April began reluctantly. "Because this is really frequent and it just gets worse every time… That maybe I should see a doctor."

"A doctor? What would they do?" Roger asked skeptically.

"No, like a therapist. A psychiatrist."

"A psychiatrist?" he repeated, frowning. They couldn't afford that. "It's that bad?"

April nodded slowly. "And I know what you're thinking, but I could get extra shifts at the restaurant when I'm not at school, and it would be hard, but I think we can do it. It's not that I _want_ this, I just think I need it, you know?"

"Yeah," Roger replied, thinking about what she had just said. "I guess so."

"And don't be mad. I mean, if worst comes to worst I can borrow money for my parents, even though I'm pretty sure they hate me…"

"No," he shook his head. "We'll do this on our own. If you need it, I'll give it to you. I want you to be safe and happy."

She forced a smile and nodded, hugging Roger gently.

"I love you," she whispered.

Roger kissed the side of her head and sighed. This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

* * *

Roger shoved his hands into his coat pockets and walked briskly through the park, listening to the leaves crunching underneath his feet. He was feeling a little stressed lately because he had been working at the record store a lot and trying to balance a home life with April at the same time, which was getting hard to do. Even with both of them working, things were difficult around the apartment. They didn't fight very much, but when they did it was usually big and loud. Roger was starting to worry that they rushed into everything too fast and he wasn't sure this is what he wanted anymore. He loved April but felt like they weren't exactly 'marriage material.' Ever since April had sprung the idea of therapy on him, he believed even more that their relationship wasn't meant to be. They were young, and even though he hated to admit it, Roger was starting to regret his marriage to April.

He noticed a familiar figure standing ahead of him in the distance and slowed down as he approached it calmly, glancing around him to make sure there weren't too many by-standers. He tip-toed behind the person and tickled her wildly in the sides, laughing.

"Get the fuck awa– Davis!" Mimi screeched, lowering her fists and shoving him away from her. "Don't ever do that again or I'll kill you!"

"Sorry," he laughed, hugging her. She shook her head and hugged him back.

"Asshole. I hate you."

Roger laughed and kissed the top of her head. She pulled away and pushed him again, burying her face in her hands.

"Ugh, I hate you," she repeated shaking her head as they began to walk down the stone pathway through the park.

"So why did you want to come here?" Roger asked, looking up into the clear sky.

She swung her arms back and forth as they walked. "I dunno. It's such a nice day. I figured we should hang out… and I want to show you something!"

"What?"

Mimi took Roger's hand and pointed to a shadow in the distance.

"See him?"

Roger nodded at the figure he recognized far too well. _The __Man._

Mimi dragged him along the pathway, walking straight past him and the desperate group of people surrounding him. She clung onto Roger's hand tightly, but passed without even flinching. They walked briskly across the park out onto the sidewalk, and down the block before either of them said anything.

Mimi finally turned to Roger, grinning and radiating pride.

"Did you see?!" she squealed.

"I did!" he laughed, hugging her. "I'm so proud of you. That was great."

"You too," she giggled. "We both did it. Don't tell Benny we went there, though."

Roger frowned. "Why? Wouldn't he be happy?"

Mimi shrugged as they began walking again. "He doesn't like it when I go to the park… or anywhere really, alone. He gets so freaked out. I don't think he trusts me," she laughed.

Roger laughed quietly and dug through his pockets.

"I forgot, I brought these for us." He pulled out a bag of Skittles and tossed them over to Mimi. As she opened them, the sunshine caught on the diamond in her engagement ring.

"How _is_ almost-married life?" he asked, holding out his hand.

Mimi poured some candy into the palm of his hand and shrugged, chewing the Skittles that were in her mouth.

"It's great when he's around. He's like, never home."

"Yeah, Benny can be like that."

"He's such a workaholic. The only time I see him is when he takes me out for dinner every once in a while."

Roger nodded, understanding. "Goes in early and stays late?"

"Yeah, because nobody else can do his job right, the damn perfectionist that he is."

"You forgot about mentioning how anal retentive and cheap he is."

Mimi laughed and hit him in the shoulder. "…Plus he's really anal retentive and cheap."

"But you love him," he reminded her.

She replied, sighing, "But I love him. Apparently."

"Yeah you do," Roger laughed, kicking at the leaves as they walked down the sidewalk. "Benny's a good guy."

"He is," Mimi agreed, eating some more candy and nodding. "So what's up? You seem sad."

"I do?"

"Yeah, you know, sadder and broodier than usual."

Roger laughed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," she shrugged, "Just wondering why you're cranky."

"I'm not. Just stressed. I've been working a lot and April's… April."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Mimi laughed, eating some more candy.

He sighed and shook his head. "She's just going through some stuff. She's been having this reoccurring nightmare and she apparently kills herself in it."

Mimi gasped.

"She told me she was suicidal after she found out she had AIDS."

Mimi stopped and turned to Roger. "Are we talking about the same April here? Blondie?"

"Yeah," Roger replied grimly. "And she never told me this before. The only reason she told me the other night is 'cause I yelled at her. Oh, and of course I fucked up her relationship with her parents, so she can't get help from them either."

Mimi linked arms with him and rested her head on his shoulder as they began to walk down the sidewalk again.

"It's not your fault."

"I know," Roger reassured her. "I know that. I just feel like, I don't know. Like we've met at screwed up times in our lives. We're just kind of fucking each other over and I'm not sure if I did this all right."

Mimi remained silent.

"How do you know that you and Benny are meant to be?"

She thought for a moment before replying. "I'm not sure. It just all feels right, like everything comes together when I'm with him."

"Yeah, and that's how I feel with April. Except now she's going and throwing this in my face and everything's going downhill. It's not working too well."

"It will." Mimi linked her hand through Roger's and looked up at him. "I know it will."

Roger smiled and squeezed her hand gently.

_That makes one of us,_ Roger thought.

* * *

Maureen unlocked the door to her apartment and stepped inside, smiling when she heard Mark's voice.

"Yeah, I know—"

He turned around at the noise of the closing door and smiled from the kitchen, giving a small wave.

She tossed her jacket and her gloves on the couch, rubbing her hands together to warm them up. It was very cold out for November.

"No you don't get—"

Mark sighed and shut his eyes holding the phone away from his ear, a loud screaming voice coming form the other end. Maureen kissed him quickly on the cheek and opened the fridge, pulling out a carton of fried rice from a couple nights ago. Mark handed her a plate as he rolled his eyes, listening to the person on the phone. She poured the rice out onto the plate, grimacing slightly at the smell and grabbed a fork from a drawer before making her way over to the couch and plopping down.

"Okay. Okay, I'm going to go," Mark tried desperately to get off the phone. "Maureen's home!" he yelled, slamming the phone down.

Maureen looked back at Mark and frowned. "What was that?"

He sighed and sat down next to her, leaning his head against the back of the couch. "Cindy."

"Oh," she wrinkled her nose. "She still hate me?"

"She doesn't _hate_ you…"

Maureen laughed. "Yes she does. She tells you all the time."

He shrugged and nodded. "I guess she does, then. Sorry."

"It's okay, 'cause I don't like her either."

Mark laughed and rested his chin on her shoulder. "Long day?" he asked her, trying to change the subject.

She nodded, poking at her rice. "Yeah. Missed you."

"Is it good?" he asked her, referring to her dinner.

"Benny called this morning, I forgot to tell you."

"What did he say?" he yawned.

"Apparently there's this big Christmas gala that his law firm is part of and he's trying to sell us tickets. You want to go?"

Mark shrugged. "I guess so."

"Good, because I told him we would," Maureen giggled before sticking her tongue out at him. She rubbed the back of his head and kissed his forehead. "How was your day?"

"I got promoted," Mark told her.

She looked up quickly and smiled. "That's so good! Congratulations, pookie!" she squealed, placing her food beside her and throwing her arms around Mark's neck. When he didn't respond she pulled back and stared him down. "…Right?"

"I guess…" he moaned. Maureen sat back down and made a face.

"You guess? Don't you like it?"

"Yeah I do," he reassured her. "It's just… this is going to sound stupid."

"No it won't," she smiled. "Promise."

Mark sighed. "I miss filming. I never get to go out anymore, it's always too late to go out."

"Is not."

"Yes it is!" he whined. "It always gets dark so fast and I'm too tired when I come home."

She laughed. "You're too tired to film but not too tired to—"

"Not helping!"

"Sorry," she frowned.

"It's just annoying because it takes up so much time. And now it's going to take up even more."

Maureen glanced over at the clock and back at Mark. She stood up from the couch and held her hands out for him.

"Why don't we go out right now?"

"What?" he asked. "But it's like, eight o'clock."

"So, grandpa?" she giggled. "What else were you going to do?"

He shrugged and took her hands, standing up too. "Nothing, I guess."

"Then let's go," she grinned.

Mark smiled back and picked up his camera from the bed. Maureen could always cheer him up.

"Wait," Mark stopped, turning back to Maureen who was putting on her coat.

"What?"

He moved closer to her and turned her around back to the couch.

"Finish your dinner."


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34**

_Early December_

"This thing is huge!" Mimi called over the loud chattering of the people filling the large, festively decorated hall. Collins, Maureen, and Mark followed her through the crowd as they looked for their table. They lost Benny several feet back when he found yet another co-worker of his and got lost in conversation. They were presently at the gala that they had been roped into buying tickets for a month ago.

Mark nudged Maureen through the crowds following Collins and Mimi, and placed his hands on her waist from behind.

"You look great tonight," he told her. She smiled and kissed him on the cheek.

"So do you pookie." She peered through the mass of people and saw Mimi and Collins sitting down at a table.

"I think they found the table," she let him know. He shrugged and shook his head, oblivious to what she just said. Maureen laughed and led him over to the table, plopping down in a chair next to Collins. She glanced around the hall and leaned into Mark.

"What is this for again?"

Mark shrugged. "No idea. Something about lawyers and fundraising, I think."

"Maybe," she giggled as she leaned back into her chair. Suddenly, her heart stopped as she noticed something horrible familiar at the next table.

"You okay?" Mark asked as she sunk down in her seat. "You look so scared all of the sudden," he laughed.

She turned her head to Mark and shook her head slowly, forcing a smile. "No, I'm okay."

She turned quickly and tugged on Collins' sleeve, pulling him out of conversation with Mimi.

"Patience is a virtue, little lady," Collins chided her.

"Can you come with me to the bar?" she asked quickly.

He laughed. "Can't wait to get drunk, eh?"

"Yeah," she replied. "We'll get you guys drinks, too, if you want," she told Mimi and Mark as she pulled Collins up with her. They gave her their orders and Collins and Maureen battled their way through the crowds again.

Maureen slid her hand into Collins' and clutched onto his arm with her other hand.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked, noticing her sudden fright.

She nodded, but made sure she was a far enough distance away from the table before spilling everything to Collins.

"Collins…" she started meekly. "I'm an idiot."

"No you're not," he reassured her, confused.

"Yes I am! Do you remember when I cheated on Mark?" she asked, pained at the memory.

Collins nodded. "Yeah."

"Well I was dating this woman, Joanne – oh, don't look so surprised. You would've really liked her. She was so great, and she was a lawyer! And I really liked her but she broke up with me and Mark did, and it was all a big mess. But the thing is she was so… amazing. She was one of the only people who've ever really seemed to _like_ me and I even managed to screw that up too, and now she hates me."

"Okay…" he replied slowly as they reached the bar and stood in line. "Why's this coming out all of the sudden?"

She leaned against him and whined. "Because she's here."

"Here? Like, now?" he asked, surprised.

"Yeah," she replied meekly. "What do I do?"

"Well," he started, pausing a moment to think. "You don't have to do anything. It will be awkward if you do."

She shrugged. "But what if she starts talking to me?"

"Then talk back. Just don't make a big deal out of this, babe. It'll all turn out fine."

She shrugged again and frowned. "How much longer do we have to stay? I want to go home."

Collins wrapped an arm around her shoulders and hugged her tightly.

"After dinner will boot it out of here, okay? Though I can't promise the same for Benny," he laughed, pointing at Benny who was schmoozing with somebody new.

* * *

Later that evening, everybody was done eating and was currently finishing off their deserts and coffee. Maureen had managed to make it most of the night without seeing Joanne again, and so far everything was going fine. Benny had joined the gang for dinner, but later sped back off to continue talking with co-workers and others he was introduced to that night.

"So you guys find any places you like?" Collins asked before taking a sip of his coffee.

Mark nodded and draped his arm over Maureen's shoulders. "A few."

"Yeah," Maureen agreed. "There are like, three we like. Right?"

"Yup, and one's a townhouse. We've got a couple decisions to make, eh?" he asked, glancing over at Maureen. She nodded and rested her head on his shoulder and shut her eyes.

"We do."

"Where are they?" Collins asked.

"Um, Manhattan," Mark nodded. "It's not like we're moving to Jersey or anything."

"Eeew," Maureen laughed. "Hey!" she whined, sitting up quickly and brushing off the crumbs of the small piece of cake that Collins threw at her.

"Jersey rules," he grinned. "Take that."

Mimi punched him lightly in the shoulder and giggled.

"Will you take me to see them?" she asked, resting her chin in the palm of her hand.

"For sure! One of them has the _biggest_ closets!" Maureen squealed.

Mark rolled his eyes. "As if she doesn't have enough clothes as it is."

Maureen patted him on the cheek and covered her mouth as she yawned with her other hand. "What time is it?"

"About midnight," answered Collins.

"Should we grab our coats and head out?" Mark suggested, pushing himself away from the table.

Collins nodded. "Sounds good."

They all stood up, but Mimi plopped back down in her seat.

"Wait," she sighed. "I've lost Benny again."

"So honestly, is he ever around?" Maureen laughed.

"Nope," Mimi shook her head, looking around the slowly emptying hall. "Always working, I tell you."

"I'll wait with you until you find him," Collins suggested.

"Oh, don't worry about me. He'll be back."

"No, it's okay. He's driving me back to the loft anyway," he laughed, sitting back down with Mimi.

"Well, we should probably get going anyway," Mark shrugged, looking over at Maureen who nodded.

"Work and then rehearsal tomorrow," she frowned, sticking out her tongue.

"Have fun," Mimi smirked sarcastically. "Night, guys."

"Bye you two," Collins added. "Careful on the way home."

"Thanks, dad," Maureen laughed, patting him on the head as she passed.

Mark waved as they walked away from the table. "Bye!"

He wrapped an arm around Maureen's waist as they pushed their way through the crowds again.

"You didn't eat very much tonight," he noted.

Maureen sighed. She'd heard this too many times before. "I wasn't that hungry."

"You have to eat, you know."

"I _do_ know," she whined. "And I did. But even the doctor said I have to ease myself back into eating enough. If I eat too much too soon I'll just throw it back up anyway."

"It's been almost two months," he reminded her. "Haven't you eased enough?"

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest, ignoring his comment.

"You won't throw up," Mark informed her as they walked through the doorway out into the equally as crowded lobby.

"_Okay_," she sighed, irritated.

Mark realized he struck a bad chord with his girlfriend as they stopped walking, happy that they both had an excuse to cool off while she waited for him.

"Wait here, I'll go grab our coats from coat check."

He sped off and Maureen kicked at the ground, leaning against the wall. Sure, it was kind of cute when he was worried about her in the beginning, but now it was just getting annoying. Maureen could take care of herself, and she didn't need Mark breathing down her neck all the time.

She whimpered loudly and bumped the back of her head against the wall when somebody pushed into her by accident.

"Watch it," she growled, stepping back.

"Sorry," the man replied meekly, turning back to his group who was staring back at her. They all turned back to their conversation except for one, who continued to look at Maureen awkwardly.

"Oh my God," she murmured, tearing her eyes away from Joanne and looking down at the ground.

"Maureen?" she asked carefully.

"Hey…" Maureen replied, refusing to meet her eyes.

Joanne turned abruptly back to her friends, then awkwardly back on her heel, walking away.

"Great!" Maureen whined. "Great…"

Before long, Mark showed up with her coat and was already wearing his. He helped her into it and they left the banquet hall for the sidewalk.

"Should we take a cab home?" he asked.

Maureen shrugged and shoved her hands into her pockets. "I guess so."

He nodded as they walked down the sidewalk, trying to hail a cab. Maureen recognized Joanne close by and made a loud noise of disgust.

"What are the fucking odds?" she asked to no one in particular.

Mark looked back at her and frowned. "What?"

She sighed melodramatically, directing her next comment at Joanne. "Nothing, but don't you just hate it when people are big babies and let one stupid thing ruin their whole night?"

He stared back at her, confused, and turned back around to find a cab.

"I'm not one to intrude," Joanne replied as she tried to hail her own cab. "But did you ever stop to think that maybe the person has other places to be?"

"Like flossing their teeth, I suppose," she shot back snootily, "Because some people are really anal retentive that way."

"Or just thorough. Maybe the other person is just a slob."

"Or a free spirit," she corrected Joanne loudly. "Maybe the other person just doesn't _appreciate_ the other person's love for life."

"And maybe the _other_ other person doesn't appreciate a smart person when they see one," she yelled back, stomping off down the sidewalk.

Maureen crossed her arms in a huff and stamped her foot on the ground, hoping Joanne heard it.

"Do you know her?" Mark asked obliviously as a taxi slowed to a halt in front of them.

She shook her head violently and flopped into the cab.

"Never seen the bitch before in my life."

* * *

April bit the top of her pen and examined the freshly written sentence on her paper.

"No," she mumbled. "'Education is the root of…' Rog? How do I finish this sentence? 'Education is the root of…'?" she called to Roger in the kitchen.

"All things good and holy? You're asking the wrong person," he laughed. "Quit working. Dinner's ready."

April groaned and reluctantly dropped her binder onto the coffee table. She stood up and slid into a chair at the old table they used as a dining room table.

"What'd you make?"

"Mac and cheese," he grinned. "It's all I know how to cook."

She laughed. "You're adorable."

"I know," he replied, setting her plate down in front of her. He placed his down across from her and sat down, too.

"Guess what?" he asked, smiling.

April popped a forkful of pasta into her mouth and shrugged. "What?"

"We got a gig on Thursday!"

"Oh, that's great babe!" she squealed.

"Will you come?" he asked.

She nodded. "Sure, if I don't have too much work."

"You're gonna wear yourself out," he told her as-a-matter-of-factly.

"No I won't," she shrugged. "Just think, in less than a year I'll be a teacher… or at least a supply."

"It's true!" Roger smiled. "I'm so proud of you," he pretended to sob. "My little girl grew up so fast!"

"Shut up," she laughed. "Oh hey, did I tell you? My cousin Monique is pregnant."

"Who's that?"

"The one my parents love," she rolled her eyes. "But it's hilarious because she's not even engaged yet. I bet everyone's really pissed."

"I bet."

April nodded and stared out the window, absentmindedly playing with the food on her plate.

"You there?" Roger asked, swallowing some of his dinner.

She nodded again and smiled back at him. They both turned back to their food and sat in silence for a few minutes until April spoke up again.

"Would you ever want kids?" she asked, studying his face.

"What?" he laughed. "Where'd that come from?"

April shrugged. "I don't know. I'm just curious, I guess."

She let out a quiet chuckle and turned back to his dinner.

"Well, would you?" she prodded.

He made a face and shook his head. "I dunno. Not right now… not for a long time. Kids are overrated."

"They are?" she asked, an eyebrow raised.

"All they do is barf and crap, and I mean, that's still all _I_ do and I can barely take care of myself."

"You take good care of me," she frowned.

"But it's not like your only dependant on me. Babies are."

She turned back to her food, pushing it around her plate. "So you'd never want one?"

"Well, I don't know about never," he replied. "Just not now. Maybe when I'm like, forty."

April paused. "Well I guess that's okay…"

"You want kids, don't you?"

"Yeah… Eventually, like you said," she added quickly. "And plus, it might be hard since we're both…"

"Yeah," he agreed, understanding. "That might pose a problem. Would we ever want to risk it?"

"I don't know," April sighed, "Maybe not. I wouldn't want to mess up another person's life, too."

"You haven't messed up any lives," he rationalized with her.

"I messed up yours."

He let out a small laugh and took her hand from across the table. "You did not. You made it better."

She rolled her eyes. "I messed it up and you know it. I got you sick."

"April," he said. "You still don't think that, do you?" He stood up from his chair and wandered to her side of the table. "It's not your fault."

"Sure."

He repeated himself. "April. It's not your fault. _I'm _the one who got you involved in drugs and _I'm_ the one who… got you sick. Don't blame yourself. Isn't that what your therapist keeps telling you?"

"Yeah," she trailed off. "Sorry."

"Stop that!" he laughed. "It's not your fault. Repeat after me: It's not my fault."

"It's not my fault," April laughed.

"Again."

"It's not my fault."

"Louder!"

"It's not my fault!" she yelled, jumping up from her chair and laughing.

Roger smiled and wrapped his arms around her.

"Finish your dinner."

* * *

Review? =)


	35. Chapter 35

**Author's Note:** Thanks for 104 reviews, guys! That's awesome! Sorry about sucking with my updates lately. It's the end of the school year, but my classes are finally over and I'm into exams. I've only got two, so hopefully updates will be more frequent starting soon. I'm taking a course over the summer, but that shouldn't interfere too much with updates.

Thanks for sticking with me so far, you're all great.

* * *

**Chapter 35**

_Mid December_

"So we'll meet back here around three-ish, okay?" April asked the others as they walked through the glass doors into the mall, Mimi and Roger lagging far behind Maureen and April.

"Fine," Roger whined, sighing. "I can't believe you dragged me here."

"Me too," Mimi piped up. "I hate the mall," she grumbled.

April rolled her eyes. "Suck it up, you two. Only two hours, then we can go back to slumming it."

"That's all I ask," Roger replied, kissing April gently on the cheek. "See you later, baby."

"Say bye to Maureen," she whispered, tugging on the sleeve of his coat.

"Make me," he whispered back, pulling Mimi away from conversation with Maureen and continuing down the hall.

"What the hell!" Mimi shrieked, trying to regain her balance. "What was that?"

Roger sighed. "Rule number one if you want to hang out with me: there will be no Maureenage for you."

"But I like her," Mimi laughed. "She's fun."

"She's not fun," he corrected her. "_I'm_ fun. She's _not_ fun. She's slutty and mean."

"Not to me," she argued, shaking her head.

"Yet. Just you wait, one day she'll cry to Mark about how you tried to sleep with her and you'll be humming a whole other tune."

Mimi stopped and frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"Nothing," he laughed, grabbing her wrist. "Come on, I don't want you to get lost in the crowd. You're little. Your kind does that easily."

Mimi laughed. "My kind?"

"Short people. I lose April all the time."

"Your own wife?"

Roger shrugged and nodded.

"Whatever," she giggled. "So why are you walking so fast? Are you on a mission?" she asked excitedly.

Roger nodded seriously. "Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to help me pick out an engagement-slash-wedding ring for April."

"Ooh!" Mimi squealed. "I like jewelry!"

"I figured," Roger sighed. "So got any ideas?"

"A rock. A big, huge rock."

"So got any ideas that I can afford?" he corrected himself.

"Sorry, I've just got such expensive tastes," she giggled, pulling him into a nearby jewelry store.

Roger whispered, "What do I do?"

"You start looking," Mimi replied. "Do you like that one?" she asked him, pointing into a glass case.

He made a face. "I dunno, it's a little… ugly."

"Can I help you?" a saleswoman spoke up from behind the counter, eyeing the pair suspiciously.

Mimi looked over to Roger who shrugged. "We're looking for a ring."

"What kind of ring?" she asked, frowning.

"A, uh, wedding ring," Roger replied as Mimi walked away and began to wander around the store.

"Are you looking for a traditional band or a diamond ring?"

"Um…" he started, glancing around and looking for Mimi who was chatting with another salesperson. "Diamond, I guess?"

"A solitaire or a diamond band?"

Roger stared blankly back at her. "What?"

The woman sighed and pulled out a set of keys. She unlocked the back of the glass case and pulled out two rings.

"This one is a gold band with solitaire diamond enhancer, and this one is a diamond band," she told him, showing him the rings.

Roger looked around anxiously for Mimi and silently wished that she'd stop flirting with the salesman. He had never felt more uncomfortable in his entire life.

"The solitaires are more popular," the woman continued, "But personally I like the bands, better."

"Me too," Roger agreed, crossing his arms.

"What size are you looking for?"

He sighed. "There are sizes? I have no clue."

"Why don't you go ask your fiancée?" she asked as she motioned over to Mimi.

Roger laughed and glanced over to Mimi. "She's not my fiancée… But she is probably the same size," he thought aloud. "One minute."

He walked away from the woman and pulled Mimi out of conversation with her new friend.

"Can we go?" he whispered.

Mimi nodded and laughed. "Giving up so easily?"

"April can wait, right? She doesn't even really want a ring in the first place."

She shrugged. "I guess so. No offence, but you suck at being a husband."

They walked out of the store quickly and Roger sighed. "Yeah, I know."

* * *

Maureen and April walked through the mall having already accumulated a few shopping bags. April rearranged the bags and took them with her other hand, sighing.

"I've got presents for everyone except for Roger," she frowned. "He's so hard to buy for."

"And I've got tons of gifts for myself," Maureen giggled, "And one for Mark. I guess we're almost done… with twenty minutes to spare," she smiled, glancing down at her watch.

"Want to take a break?" April asked.

Maureen nodded. "Yeah. We could get a coffee."

"Sounds good."

Both women continued walking until they found a Starbucks. Getting into line, Maureen groaned and turned her back to the counter.

"Oh my God," she whispered to April, grimacing.

"What?" she asked obliviously as she looked up from her wallet.

"Why does this always happen to me?" Maureen frowned, looking down in an attempt to cover her face with her hair. "Good Lord."

April raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"

Maureen sighed and shut her eyes. "Okay, long story short, one of the people I cheated with Mark on is over there."

"_One_ of them?!" April asked loudly. Maureen shushed her, and she continued quieter. "Who?"

"Blue coat, black pants, looks like she has a stick up her ass…"

April stifled a laugh. "That's no good. Want to go somewhere else?"

She nodded quickly and the two women pushed their way through the crowd and out of the crowded coffee shop.

"Maureen?" Joanne called.

"Great. Great!" Maureen whined, stomping her foot on the ground. April made a face and patted her back gently.

"She's coming over here," she whispered, noticing Maureen's pained expression.

"What the hell do I do?!" she whispered back before turning around and finding Joanne standing beside her. April quickly spun around and pretended to be examining the exotic coffees neatly lined up on the shelf in front of her.

Joanne smiled weakly. "We have to stop meeting this way."

"I guess we do," Maureen replied bitterly, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Look, don't get like that. I just came over to apologize. I was going to call you, but…"

Maureen smirked. "Apologize?"

"Yes," she told her. "And I guess it was just luck that I ran into you here. But listen, I'm sorry for what I said last week. It was rude."

"Yes, it was."

Joanne shrugged uneasily and leaned back on the heels of her shoes. "Well, that was it. I just wanted to make amends, you know, make sure there wasn't any bad blood between us."

Maureen nodded slowly. Joanne was actually making an effort to be nice to her now?

"No bad blood," Maureen reassured her, smiling slightly.

Joanne sighed and smiled, too. "Okay then. Have a merry Christmas."

"You too."

Joanne enveloped Maureen in a comforting hug before disappearing back into the crowd. April turned around and smiled.

"Aw, you're all made up!" she teased her friend, tugging on the sleeve of her coat as they left the Starbucks, both forgetting about ever wanting coffee.

Maureen sighed. "Shut up. It's not my fault I'm so damn loveable."

She laughed and passed her bags from one hand to the other.

"What time is it?"

"Quarter to three," Maureen told her.

She nodded. "We should go back and meet Roger and Mimi."

"Sounds like a plan. Hey, didn't you have to get that prescription filled?"

April looked down and shrugged. "Yeah," she replied quietly.

"Why don't we do that before we meet them, then?"

"Because I don't want to."

Maureen laughed. "Why not? It's just your AZT, right?"

"Not quite," she frowned.

"Then what?"

"Anti-depressants," April replied without hesitation.

"What? Since when?" Maureen asked.

She shrugged nonchalantly. "Since the psychiatrist said I needed them."

"But why?"

"Because I'm depressed," she snapped. "God, I don't know, Maureen."

Maureen bit her lip. "But you don't seem… you know."

Sighing, April replied, "Can we _please_ stop talking about this before Roger hears you?"

"You're not going to tell him?!"

April shrugged.

"Why not? Won't he find out?"

"Not if I have anything to do with it," she replied, annoyed. She began to walk through the mall faster, Maureen trailing behind. "Nobody wants to married to a nutcase."

"You're not a nutcase, though!"

April shrugged and ignored Maureen, stopping when she reached the entrance where they were supposed to meet Roger and Mimi. She crossed her arms over her chest, holding on to her bags tightly.

"April," Maureen tried. "You're not crazy."

"_Okay_, I heard you."

Maureen stared at her friend for a long moment then turned away quickly, crossing her arms, too. After what seemed like hours, Mimi and Roger arrived. They walked to the parking lot in silence, Mimi and Roger not understanding the awkwardness of the situation.

"I still hate malls," Mimi finally broke the silence, trying to lighten the mood.

"Too crowded," Maureen agreed as they reached the car. April unlocked the doors after sliding into the driver's seat.

"Shotgun!" Roger and Maureen called in unison.

Trying to win, they both said it again.

"Shotgun! Shotgun!"

Roger glared at Maureen when Mimi tugged on his coat sleeve.

"What about rule number one?" she whispered.

He laughed. "Oh yeah. Fine, I'll take the back."

They all piled into the car, chatting, as April pulled the car out onto the street. While trying to keep her eyes on the road, she dug through her purse, pulling out a cigarette and a lighter.

"Smoking kills," Maureen informed her. "It makes you impotent."

"I don't have to worry about that, do I?" April retorted, rolling down her window.

"It _does_?!" Roger asked, startled. "Well I do! Put it out!"

She rolled her eyes and took a long drag of it, blowing the smoke out the window. Before long, they reached the Life Café. April parked the car and they all got out, hurrying into the restaurant from the cold.

"Marky!" Maureen squealed, skipping over to her boyfriend who was already seated at a large table with Collins. She flopped beside him on the booth and sat herself in his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him.

Collins laughed as the others reached the table, too. "Hey guys."

"Gross," Roger scoffed, sitting down at the table and pulling April with him. "So did you get me something nice for Christmas?" he teased.

She nodded. "Yup," she lied. "How about you?"

"Don't you know it," he covered. He flipped open his menu and they began to pick out something for their late lunch.

"How was shopping?" Collins asked, looking up from his menu.

"Alright," Mimi replied. "But I still hate malls. They're so crowded and stupid. I could have done all my shopping right here in the village."

"It's just nice to have a change of pace," April shrugged.

"It wasn't too bad," Maureen agreed. "Except for all the people."

April laughed. "Familiar faces."

Maureen kicked her underneath the table and cuddled up against Mark.

"What are you talking about?" Collins asked.

"Nothing," Maureen reassured him. "April's just a shit disturber."

"Ha ha," April laughed sarcastically as the waiter made his way over to their table.

"Hey guys, how are you?"

"Fine," Mark answered for the group. "You?"

"Oh, I'm Eddie. I'm always good."

The friends placed their orders, Eddie returning with them soon after.

"So did I tell you all about my plan?" Maureen asked, pushing her salad around the plate with her fork.

Collins shook his head. "What's that?"

"I'm going to become an interior designer! There's this centre where you can take classes."

"That's awesome, Mo!" Mimi smiled, stealing some French fries from Benny, who had joined the group earlier.

"Yeah," Collins agreed. "My aunt's a designer. Seems pretty cool."

Maureen noticed Mark roll his eyes and laugh.

"Mark doesn't believe me!" she fumed. "He doesn't think I'll stick with it."

"I _do_ believe you," he laughed. "It's just… you don't exactly have a long enough attention span to go through with this."

"Do too," she pouted.

"Mark, that's not nice," April laughed, flicking the ashes off the end of her cigarette and into the ash try.

He shrugged. "Maybe. And since when do you smoke?"

"Since I felt like it."

"Smoking makes you impotent!" Mimi squealed, giggling. She collapsed against Benny who wrapped his arm around her and laughed.

"That's what I'm marrying," he joked, kissing the side of her head.

"And what I had to spend my afternoon with," Roger shook his head. "Where the hell were you guys when I needed you?"

Collins shrugged. "I already finished getting Christmas gifts, and Benny's just a jerk."

"I put the down payment on our new apartment!" Mark smiled.

"Oh yeah, I forgot about that," laughed Maureen.

April looked up from her meal. "What's it like?"

"So cool!" Maureen giggled.

"It's two bedrooms, one and a half bathrooms, and an open concept living room and kitchen."

"Holy shit," Mimi blurted out. "That's a big place."

Maureen shrugged. "Not really. Just perfect for us."

"When can we see it?" Collins asked.

Mark shrugged and looked over at Maureen. "Want to go and see it after we finish here?"

Everybody agreed that it was a good idea, and after they finished eating and added their meal to their very long tab at the restaurant, they hopped on the subway and took it to Mark and Maureen's new apartment.

"It's empty right now," Mark told the others as he unlocked the door. "But it'll probably be pretty cool when we get all our stuff in it."

They entered into a very small foyer with a closet on their right. After climbing two steps, they all stood in the empty living room. There were very large paned windows opposite from them, letting in much sunshine. On their left there were two doors, the first one being a washroom and the other being a bedroom (though it was going to become Mark's office), and on their right was the kitchen, separated only by a row of counters. Two more steps led up to a slightly bigger bedroom with an attached bathroom.

"This place is really nice you guys," April smiled while glancing around the apartment.

"Yeah," Benny agreed, sitting down on the floor next to Mimi.

Maureen and Collins joined them, and soon all the friends sat in the middle of the living room.

"Remember when we bought the loft?" Collins laughed.

"Yeah," Mark laughed. "Who was it that kept calling it a shag pad?"

Collins and Roger simultaneously pointed at Benny, who laughed and covered his face.

"I was young and naïve! Shut up!"

Mimi laughed and rested her head on his chest.

"That's what I have to marry," she mocked him. "Oh, so you guys will still be bridesmaids?" she asked April and Maureen who nodded.

"Of course."

"Which one's your best man, baby?" she asked Benny.

"Uh…" he replied, looking like a deer caught in headlights. "All of them?"

The men laughed.

"One of them can do it," Roger laughed. "I don't want to."

"Neither do I!" Mark whined, wrapping his arms around Maureen's waist. Everybody turned to Collins, who shook his head.

"I'm not doing it."

"Why not? It's an honour," Mark told him.

He shook his head. "Then _you_ do it."

"Come on guys!" Benny pleaded. "I need a best man! You're all mean."

They all remained silent, except for the girls who giggled.

"Mark should do it," Mimi spoke up.

"Maybe I don't want him to do it anymore," Benny said sarcastically.

"But he won Inky Pinky Ponky."

Roger furrowed his eyebrows. "What the hell is that?"

"You know," April spoke up, poking him in the side. "Inky pinky ponky, daddy bought a donkey. The donkey died, daddy cried, inky pinky ponky."

"What?"

"Honestly?" Mark asked. "Never heard of it?"

He shook his head.

"Even _I_'ve heard of it."

"Shut up Maureen."

"_You_ shut up. Jerkoff."

The group erupted into laughter. No matter how different things were, some never changed.


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter 36**

_January 14_

****

Mark knocked on his old bedroom door in the loft for what seemed like the fiftieth time that day.

"Mo, you need to come out eventually."

"No I don't!" came her muffled reply from inside. "And you can't make me!"

He groaned and bumped his forehead against the door. "Please? I'm still a little bit hungover from the bachelor party and you're hurting my head."

"Oh, so now I'm just a big headache?"

"Maureen!" he whined. "The limo's going to be here in half an hour and April still has to do your hair…"

He heard her put something on the ground then walk over to the door. She opened it up slightly and poked her head out.

"You know that stereotype about how the bride picks ugly bridesmaids dresses because she doesn't want any of them to look better than her?"

"Sure," Mark laughed, finally understanding where she was going with her temper tantrum.

The bedroom door swung open and Maureen appeared in the doorway wearing a coral-coloured dress with sea foam green crinoline under the skirt.

"Mimi fully believes in it."

"Oh my God," he laughed, covering his mouth.

"Shut up!" she cried, clenching her fists. "It's not funny!"

"Is too, Sasquatch!" Roger called from the couch, popping a few potato chips into his mouth.

April walked into the room, her hair and makeup done and a cigarette between two fingers, but still in jeans and a t-shirt.

"Rog, don't eat in your tux, you'll get crumbs all over it." She balked when she saw Maureen and burst into laughter.

"Don't you laugh, too, missy!" Maureen fumed, making her way over to April. "You're supposed to be on my side!"

"I know," she laughed, "I know. Go in there and I'll be back to do your hair in a sec."

Maureen frowned and slammed the door to Roger's old bedroom as April picked up the garment bag from the chair and went into Mark's old room, still laughing.

"Don't call her a Sasquatch, Rog," Mark chided him, leaning onto the back of the chair.

"Don't call _me_ a Sasquatch," he challenged, grinning.

He laughed. "You're such an idiot."

Mark knocked gently on the door and opened it, finding Maureen inside lying on the bed with her arm covering her face.

"Maureen," he sang as he sat on the edge of the bed. He placed a hand on her lower leg and shook her gently. "Sorry I laughed."

"No you're not."

He sighed. "Yes I am."

"Roger said I was a Sasquatch."

Mark laughed quietly. "He's also a dumbass."

She sat up and looked Mark in the face. "Sasquatches are fat."

"No they're not."

"Yes they are! They're fat and furry and huge. I'm such a cow in this dress," she whimpered, leaning forward onto his shoulder.

"You are not," he tried, rubbing her back gently. "You're beautiful. You make that dress look hot."

"No I don't. I'm not going to wear it."

"You'll break her heart if you don't."

"I don't care."

"Yes you do. She's your friend. Your friend who's got horrible taste," Mark laughed.

Maureen let out a quiet laugh into his shoulder and wrapped her arms lightly around his neck. "Yes she does."

"Everyone's obligated to look ridiculous at one point in their lives," he joked, cutting her off before she could get offended, "Not that you look ridiculous. But if I have to be the best man and give a stupid speech about how much of a loser Benny was in university, you have to wear the dress."

She shrugged, grouchy. "I guess."

Mark lifted her face to his and kissed her gently, but was interrupted when April entered the room, the sound of Roger's laughter filtering in from the other room.

"I look like an asshole," she frowned, grabbing the curling iron off the ground. "Bring your damn head over here, Maureen."

* * *

The limousine that Benny had sent to pick up the friends came within a half hour, and they all piled into it. They were dropped off at the Plaza, where the wedding was taking place (with much financial help from Benny's parents, who decided to spare no expense at their only son's wedding). The ceremony went swimmingly, Benny only forgetting to repeat after the officiant a few times. The reception was taking place in a room just down the hall from where the wedding took place. There were many more people than anybody thought there would be, and the hall was very full. The dinner went well and everybody had managed to suffer through all the speeches with relative ease. Mimi and Benny seemed ecstatic during the dinner, but somewhere near the end he wandered off and disappeared into the crowds.

Mark pulled Maureen closer to him as they danced and she automatically rested her head on his shoulder.

"Tired?" he asked, kissing the side of her head.

She shrugged. "Not really. The ceremony was nice, eh?"

"It was," Mark agreed, beginning to laugh. "But I still can't get over the fact that the maid of honour is a drag queen. That's so great."

"Definitely," Maureen giggled. "Where are they going on their honeymoon again?"

"Aruba," Mark replied.

"Very nice," she nodded. One hand traveled up into his hair and she ran her fingers through it. "I like your hair this way, all spikey. It looks good."

Mark blushed slightly and kissed her cheek. "So do you."

"Oh yeah, with this monster dress. What the hell was Mimi thinking?" she laughed. "But I have to admit, the drag queen looks pretty hot in it."

"I'll give you that much," Mark surrendered. "I know that _I'm_ getting all hot and bothered."

Maureen slapped him lightly in the shoulder and laughed. "Hey, that's my job."

"Yes it is," he grinned, pulling her closer to him and tightening his arms around her waist. He kissed her gently and smiled. "So… what do you say about having our own Aruba tonight?"

"I say you drive a hard bargain, Cohen," she shook her head pretending to deliberate then laughed, resting her head on his shoulder again. "But of course."

He smiled and looked down, noticing the gold locket that he gave her a year ago around her neck. He touched it and opened it studying the pictures of himself and her father inside.

"Do you ever take this off?"

She shook her head and shut her eyes. "Nope, I want to keep my two favourite guys with me all the time."

He tore his eyes away from the locket and looked down at her instead.

"What's the story with your dad anyway?" he asked carefully, knowing that it was probably a sensitive subject for her.

She shrugged. "We used to be close when I was really little. Then my mom got messed up and he left her and I got stuck with her, which killed me. I miss him so much sometimes," she sighed.

"You remember him? How old were you?"

"Five when they divorced. I don't really remember that much," she frowned. "But I do remember him being really great. He used to do everything with me… like, take me to the park or colour. Kid stuff like that."

Mark smiled and stroked her cheek gently, leaning his head against hers.

"Why don't you call him?"

"I don't even know where he is. He could be living in France for all I know."

He frowned. "Sorry."

"It's not your fault," she reminded him.

He nodded and kissed her gently as they continued dancing.

"They really love each other, don't they?" April asked Roger, watching Mark and Maureen over his shoulder.

He shrugged. "I guess. They're never together, though," he laughed, referring to Mimi and Benny.

"No, Mark and Maureen. Mimi and Benny are never together, I don't even know how that works," she giggled.

Roger grunted.

"They're really lucky," she continued about Mark and Maureen, a look of longing in her eyes as she watched them dance, talking and laughing. "I think they're really good for each other."

He shrugged.

"Why don't you like her?" she asked earnestly, looking back up into Roger's eyes.

"I just don't," he shrugged. "Let's just leave it at that." He spun her around in a circle and dipped her.

"Stop it," she laughed. "You're so weird."

He cocked her head at her and stared blankly at her. "Am I?"

April laughed and pushed his face away. "Yes."

Roger took notice when she sighed dreamily and glanced around the hall, taking in the scenery around them.

"You okay?" he asked.

She shrugged and nodded. "Yeah…"

"What is it?"

April took a deep breath. "This is just really nice. Mimi and Benny are lucky."

"So are we," Roger rationalized, squeezing her hand.

"Yeah, but…" she trailed off, not wanting to finish that sentence for fear of what she'd say. Maybe, "Yeah, but sometimes I don't feel like it," or, "Yeah, but sometimes I don't think this was meant to be."

"Want to go sit down?" Roger asked, noticing her sudden change in emotion.

She nodded slowly and removed her arm from around his neck.

"Do you ever feel like we missed out?" she asked as they made their way around the dance floor.

"What do you mean?"

"We never had a real wedding like this. You know, we never did the bachelor party, wedding dress thing. Do you ever feel like you would've liked it?"

Roger shrugged. "I don't know, that's not really my thing. Why?"

She shrugged, imitating him, "I don't know."

"Do you want this kind of thing?" he asked, glancing down at her.

"I think it would be nice. I mean, we're never going to have this. We're never going to get to send out invitations and pick out place settings and stuff."

He remained silent as they made their way to the head table. He knew that they would probably never be able to afford a real wedding so he wouldn't be able to give one to her. He did feel terrible to know that she was so unhappy with the fact that they couldn't. It seemed that the honeymoon was over and the relationship was becoming more difficult. The more time he spent with April, the more he realized how different they were, but he also knew that relationships always needed some tweaking and sacrifices.

They sat down at the head table, Roger sitting down next to April in Maureen's seat. He reluctantly took her hands in his and smiled.

"If you want this, I'll give it to you," he told her. "I want you to have a real wedding."

She shook her head. "I don't need one. I was just asking."

He studied her face, unconvinced. "You sure?"

"Honest," she lied, smiling. She knew that relationships always took some sacrifices, too.

* * *

"Hey beautiful, why so blue?"

Mimi looked up from her wine glass and shrugged, smiling. "I'm not. Just thinking."

Collins smiled and sat down in the vacant best man's seat.

"What about?"

She sighed and smiled at him. "Oh, everything… Benny, this wedding, you, me, everybody."

Understanding, Collins nodded. "You excited about your honeymoon?"

"I guess, if he actually decides to come with me instead of talk to 'business associates,'" she added, gesturing with finger quotations. Laughing, her eyes drifted concernedly to Benny who was schmoozing with guests at the back at the hall as she continued, "That man, I swear. Sometimes I worry about him."

"He's always been that way," Collins reassured her. "Work comes before anything else. Everybody has that goal to be successful, but it's just more prominent for him."

"I guess so. I just–"

"Mimi!" somebody called from the dance floor. She looked over, seeing a coral blob whiz up to her at the table.

"Hey you," Mimi laughed, taking her friend's hand across the table.

"Hi sugar. How does it feel to be _married_?!"

She shrugged and smiled. "You've asked me that like, six times already. The same as before, now just with extra stuff on my hand," she laughed, wiggling her fingers in front of her.

"Well, the man _does_ have taste," Collins admitted, finally joining into the conversation.

"Oh! Collins, this is my best friend. Angel, this is Collins."

Angel's blue eyes darted over to Collins, studying his face carefully.

"You're cute."

He laughed shyly and looked down at the table, pushing around some confetti with his finger.

"Angel…" Mimi chided her, giggling.

"Well he is!" she defended herself. "Collins, would you like to dance with me?"

He blushed. "Uh…"

"Go on!" Mimi whispered, poking him in the side. "Go!"

"Sure," Collins replied, standing up from his seat, grinning nervously. He took Angel's hand as she led him out to the dance floor.

"So, Collins," Angel began, wrapping an arm around his neck. "How are you enjoying yourself tonight?"

Collins couldn't help but smile as Angel talked to him. "Great. I'm having a great time."

"Good, because so am I," she smiled. "How come I've never seen you before if you're such good friends with Mimi?"

He shrugged. "I have no idea. I wish we'd have met earlier."

"Ditto, handsome."

He laughed when he saw Angel's infectious smile. He couldn't help but feel so comfortable around her even though they had just met.

"How are you boys doing?" Mimi laughed, as she and Roger danced by.

"Oh, wonderful," Angel reassured her, never tearing her eyes away from Collins.

"Definitely," Collins agreed, smiling.

Mimi laughed as Roger spun her and they danced away.

"Are you doing anything after this?" Angel asked.

Collins shook his head.

"Would you like to do something together? We could grab something to eat…"

"I'd like that," Collins smiled. "Yeah."


	37. Chapter 37

**Author's note: **Thanks to **Kelby** for catching that mistake in the last chapter. =)

Sorry about the delay – I went away for the long weekend (whee Canada Day) and I just started a course I'm taking over the summer, so I've been a bit busy. I'll try and get back to my always promised regular updates, though!

This chapter's just a little bit of fluff, but it's needed fluff. And frankly, I think everybody needs some fluff sometimes.

…3

**CHAPTER 37**

_Late February_

 "Yeah, I know," Maureen spoke into the phone, nodding. She absentmindedly stirred the tiny jar of apple sauce and spooned some into Cindy's son, Jamie's mouth as he sat in front of her on the counter in her and Mark's new apartment.

"No way," she laughed.

"No way," Jamie repeated. Maureen looked down at him and smiled, ruffling his curly brown hair.

Suddenly Mark emerged from the bathroom, grinning from ear to ear.

"It's in! It's in!" he called, pointing to his eye.

Maureen smiled. "Good job," she mouthed to him as she continued to feed the three year old and talk on the phone. "Okay, me too. I'll talk to you later Jo. Bye." Maureen clicked off the phone and tossed it over the counter, hoping it would land on the couch (which it did). She was talking to Joanne which was surprising. They had managed to put their differences aside and had actually become friends over the last little while. Mark didn't think twice about their friendship. He knew that Maureen had cheated on him with some women; he just didn't know 'some women' included Joanne.

Mark grinned and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind and smiled at Jamie over her shoulder.

"So you got the contacts in alright?" she asked as she spooned some more food into the toddler's mouth.

He nodded and kissed her on the cheek before retreating back to the living room. "Yup, final— Ow!"

He stopped midway and peered around the floor anxiously, blinking and rubbing one eye.

"What?" Maureen laughed. "What happened?"

"One of them fell out," he frowned, covering an eye and crouching down to the ground as he looked for the missing contact lens.

She shook her head and laughed again as Jamie spit his food out all over himself.

"Uh oh," he chuckled, giving a whole body shrug.

"This is the grossest thing I have ever done," Maureen whimpered, stomping her foot on the ground. She grabbed some paper towels and began to clean Jamie up when suddenly realization washed over her.

"Shit! Where's Cathy?"

"Language," Mark chided her. "She's in our room asleep, remember?"

She shrugged as she managed to finish cleaning Jamie's face and drop the paper towels in the garbage in one foul swoop.

"I forgot." Maureen picked up Jamie and sat him on her hip. She made her way into the living room, trying to deal with the restless child as he tugged on her hair and wriggled within her grasp.

"Don't walk there!" Mark frowned, batting her feet away from his search field.

She rolled her eyes and sighed, shimmying away from Mark and sitting down on the couch. "Your Uncle Marky is a dork, sweetie," she cooed at Jamie in a baby voice, tickling his belly. "Yes he is!"

Jamie laughed. "Marky, Weenie says you're a dork!"

"Mau_reen_," she corrected him, "_Reenie._"

He stared back at her and chuckled, crawling to the other side of the couch and peeking over the edge. She shook her head as Mark laughed and the phone rang.

"Weenie! That is gold."

"Funny," she snapped sarcastically, picking up the phone and answering it.

"Hello? Hey!" she laughed. "Sure, come on up." Maureen pressed a button on the phone then hung it back up, placing it on the coffee table. "Collins and Angel are here."

"Angel the drag queen?" laughed Mark.

She nodded and laughed, pulling Jamie back onto her lap so he didn't fall over the edge of the couch. She was so worried around the kids, always afraid they'd fall down and get hurt or start to cry. "Angel the drag queen."

"That is so great!" He laughed to himself. His mood changed quickly though, and he began to search the floor impatiently again. "They'd better not step on my contact."

Maureen smiled and stood up, sitting Jamie back on her hip. She crouched down onto the ground by Mark and looked over the floor too, as the toddler succeeded in putting tangles in her long brown hair.

"I thought Cindy was still mad at you?"

Mark sighed and rolled his eyes. "Not when she's desperate for a baby sitter. Apparently my mom's forgiven me too, for whatever I did to her, and now she's trying to convince me to go out to Scarsdale for dinner and a visit again."

"There it is," Maureen pointed, squinting. "I think."

Mark pounced forward and cupped his hand over where she pointed, but frowned. "Nope, that's nothing."

A knock came at the door and Jamie wriggled out of Maureen's arms, running carefully down the two steps to the door.

"I get it!" he shouted, reaching his arms up over his head as he tried to turn the door knob.

"What if he stepped on it?!" Mark whined, crawling after him. Maureen stood up, hopped over Mark's search field and swept Jamie up in her arms, examining the bottoms of his feet as he giggled.

"Sorry baby," she frowned. "Is it in your clothes?"

Mark shook his head sadly and turned his attention back to the ground. He and Maureen had moved into their apartment early on in January from the very small studio apartment they had been sharing for the past few months. Their relationship seemed to grow and become more mature in the time they had spent together, and even though they fought a fair amount, both knew that they had fallen in love all over again as stereotypical and cheesy as that sounded.

"Oh my God!"

Mark looked up when he heard Maureen shriek from the doorway. He leapt up and hurried to her side, greeted by Roger, April, Angel, and Collins. Or rather, Collins minus his dreadlocks.

"What did you _do_?!" she cried, touching the top of his head, almost as if she was hoping for them to grow back.

Collins laughed at Maureen's reaction and picked Jamie up out of her arm, shrugging. "I had to get them cut off."

"Look who we found on our way," Angel smiled, gesturing towards Roger and April.

"You did not!" she sighed, plopping down on the steps leading up to the rest of the apartment and ignoring Angel's comment altogether. "Men."

"I hear you," April shook her head, pushing her way through the others with a large pizza box. She hopped up the stairs to place it on the counter when Mark yelled.

"No! Don't go there!" He chased after her and dove back onto the ground, catching everybody's attention as they all laughed at him.

"Why not?" April asked, confused, as she set down the pizza on the counter. Maureen sighed and stood up from the stairs, crawling into the living room as she searched the ground, too.

"Mark got contacts and one fell out and we can't find it," she answered, running her hand over the hardwood floor.

There was a collective "oh" as everybody realized what was going on now, and they all proceeded to get down on the ground to search for his contact lens, too.

"That Cindy's kid?" Roger asked, glancing over at Jamie who was resting contentedly against Collins' shoulder.

Mark nodded. "Yeah, Jamie. And Cathy, his twin, is in the other room."

"Whoa, Cindy's been busy," Roger laughed.

"Don't forget the new one," Collins reminded him. "The one with the hardcore Jewish name."

Mark nodded and laughed, one hand still covering an eye. "Eli."

"That is the cutest thing!" Angel smiled, tickling Jamie under the chin. "I love babies."

Collins smiled at her and kissed her forehead as they heard Cathy call out from the other room.

"Mama!"

"Speak of the devil…" Maureen sighed, pushing herself up from the floor.

"Can I get her?" Angel asked happily. "I love babies," she repeated herself.

Maureen shrugged and nodded, pointing towards the bedroom. "Sure, go for it."

Angel stood up and left the group for Mark and Maureen's bedroom.

"You brought food?" Maureen asked April who nodded.

Mark nudged her gently in the shoulder. "You're going to eat, right?"

"_Yes_, Mark," she sighed, irritated. She stood up and sat down on the couch instead, crossing her arms over her chest. Jamie crawled off Collins' lap and made his way over to the couch, managing to get up on it without any help. He stood up beside Maureen, placed his pudgy arms around her neck and kissed her nose.

"_I _love you Weenie."

The group laughed and looked up to the toddler who was completely oblivious to the humour in the situation.

"Weenie?" Angel asked from the doorway, holding Cathy in her arms. "Should I ask?"

Maureen sighed again.

"He can't say Reenie, so he says Weenie," Mark laughed, shaking his head.

Laughing, Roger stood up from the floor. "The pizza's getting restless," he informed the group. "It's breaking out." He opened up the box and took out two pieces before grabbing a plate from the cupboard.

"You are so weird!" April laughed, jumping up and meeting him halfway from the kitchen. She wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed him.

"Someone's in a good mood," Maureen noted.

April shot her a 'look' then turned back to Roger. "Want to get me some pizza? I have to go to the washroom."

He nodded and kissed her again, "Yeah." She smiled and left for the washroom as Mark stood up quickly, blinking furiously.

"Ow. Ow!"

"Are you okay?" Collins asked as everybody looked over at him.

Mark tugged on his eyelashes and blinked. "I found it."

"Where was it?" Roger asked through a mouthful of pizza.

"Funny story," he laughed awkwardly, rubbing his eye gently and continuing to blink several times before the contact settled in. "…In my eye."

"You mean to tell me," Roger began, "that I was down on my hands and knees looking for something that you had the whole time?"

Mark nodded sheepishly. "Yeah."

"Figures," Maureen scoffed, placing Jamie down next to her on the couch and getting up, leaving the room for Mark's office where she slammed the door behind her.

He watched her leave with a mix between anger and sadness in his eyes. He shuffled forward a few steps, frowned and flopped down in the chair across from the couch.

"I swear…"

"She's a bitch, Mark," Roger told him, leaning against the counter that separated the living room from the kitchen. "A total bitch."

Collins shook his head. "Hey, guys… stop it."

"Why?" Roger shrugged. "It's true." He raised his voice so Maureen could hear him. "She's a bitch and she's never been anything else."

"Kids in the room," Angel reminded him quietly.

April came out of the washroom, her eyebrows furrowed. She obviously heard Roger's comment, too. "What the hell was all of that?"

After a small awkward silence, Mark sighed and turned around to the other room. "I'm going to go and talk to her."

April waited until he disappeared into his study and shook her head, looking at Roger with her hands accusingly situated on her hips. "What did you do?"

"Nothing!"

She looked over to Collins and Angel who shrugged, turning their attention to the twins as they babbled to them about their trip to the zoo last summer.

"I didn't do anything. It was all Mark."

She sighed, moving closer to him and wrapping her arms around his neck. "You're lucky I love you."

He laughed quietly and grinned, kissing her. "Your pizza's over there."

Pushing him away gently, April picked up her pizza from the counter and moved into the living room, sitting down in the chair.

"Have you guys gone to see Mo in _Tommy_ yet?" Collins asked trying hopefully to change the subject as Cathy jumped up and down on the couch next to him, pretending to be a monkey.

April shook her head. "Not yet. We probably should soon, though. When does it close?"

He shrugged. "I think the twenty-eighth, but don't quote me on that."

"She really loves it, eh?"

Collins nodded and laughed. "It's all she talks about. Well, that and starting her interior design class in April," he smiled, "But how about you? Excited to be almost finished teacher's college?"

"Yeah," she smiled as Roger sat down on the arm of her chair. "I am. A couple more months and I might be a real teacher."

"Of course you will," Roger laughed, draping his arm over her shoulders. "Of course she will."

April shrugged, leaning her heat against Roger's chest. "We'll see."

"Nah, it's true," Roger reassured her. "You'll be a yuppie. Just like Benny or Mark."

"Ouch," Angel laughed.

Roger continued, laughing, "Or Collins over here."

"Am not!" Collins huffed as Cathy jumped into his lap. "Ow! These kids take to people really fast, don't they?"

Angel shrugged and smiled, gazing down at Jamie who was quietly sucking his thumb as he sat on the couch leaning against her. "I think they're sweet."

Collins shook his head and Cathy settled herself happily in his lap. "Just you wait. When Mimi starts popping out some kids, she'll make _you_ baby sit."

"I wouldn't mind."

"They'll have such cute kids," April commented, nodding. "And smart. Benny's a fucking genius."

"…And a workaholic," Collins finished for her. "But that's a whole other can of worms…"

April nodded. "I don't even think I saw him and Mimi together at their own wedding."

"He'd never been good at that kind of stuff," Roger added, "The relationship thing. He can't balance things."

"That worries me," Angel jumped in.

Collins wrapped his arm around her shoulders and shook his head. "He loves her. He tells me all the time."

Unsure, Angel shrugged. "I don't want Mimi to get hurt."

"She won't, sweetie," April told her, placing her empty plate on the coffee table. "They're so good together."

She shrugged again and rested her head on Collins shoulder. "I hope so. Hey, I hope they're having fun on their honeymoon, too," she added, remembering where her friend was.

Roger laughed. "Bow chicka bow wow…"

Shutting her eyes and sighing, April let out a small laugh. "You did _not_ just do that."

"I'm just saying," he stated as-a-matter-of-factly, "That I'm sure they _are_ enjoying their honeymoon. Very much so."

Angel and Collins began to laugh, unsuccessfully trying to hide it.

"Mimi _was_ an S&M dancer!" he defended himself. "I mean I love the woman, but come on! I bet they're kinky."

"The scary part is," Collins sighed. "I can picture Benny waltzing in dressed as a courier—"

April covered her face which was now red from laughing. "Shut up! Please!"

"—And breaking out the boom box," he finished, laughing hysterically.

Angel gasped and slapped him in the shoulder. "Oh my gosh! Stop it!" she laughed. "That is the grossest thing I have ever heard!"

"Honey," Roger laughed, "That is how our minds work. We think about our best friends… as strippers…"

They all paused and thought about his comment for a moment.

"Man, we _are_ weird," Collins frowned as he looked down at his hands, still contemplating.

Suddenly Mark and Maureen came out of the other room, his arm wrapped protectively around her waist.

"All is well?" Angel asked, smiling.

"He was irresistible," Maureen giggled, kissing him on the cheek and wrapping her arms around his neck.

Roger groaned and shut his eyes. "Gross."

"Be nice," April chided, leaning up and kissing him gently.

"Eeeew!" Cathy squealed from the couch, burying her face in Collins' chest. "Yucky!"


	38. Chapter 38

**Author's Note: **I'm so glad people are enjoying this story. I always write a chapter, then am like, "oh gawd, that sucks!" …So I really appreciate reviews. Thank you so much for everybody's who's stuck with me so far; you've all been so great!

I know this has been a long time coming, and sorry! I've been having a hard time with this story and it's been getting harder for me to write. I don't want to stop it because I've come such a long way, so as long as you know that much. I just hope I can get a second wind and want to write more. That being said…

**Chapter 38**

_April_

Mark gazed at the pounding sheets of rain and the glaring lightning outside the large windows of his and Maureen's apartment. This wasn't quite the unseasonable weather he was hoping for today. He uncrossed his arms from across his chest and sighed, letting them drop at his sides. He glanced over at the microwave clock and then back out the window, eventually settling his gaze on the picnic basket, neatly packed with a breakfast for two. On top of the basket was a carefully placed velvet box; inside, a diamond ring.

Back in January, Mark had booked a flight on a hot air balloon for the both of them. They had been through so much together and he wanted to do something different and spontaneous when he proposed to her. It would probably take weeks to reschedule another balloon ride, and he was sick of waiting.

A deafening crash of thunder broke through Mark's thoughts and a smile slowly spread across his face. He quickly grabbed the wool blanket from the couch and spread it out on the floor by the windows, prepared to do what he had to do.

* * *

About fifteen minutes later, Mark crept into his and Maureen's bedroom where he found her sound asleep. She was such a deep sleeper and was probably the only person he knew who could sleep through such a large storm, save for Roger.

He sat down on the edge of the bed and brushed her hair out of her eyes and behind her ear, kissing her temple gently.

"Weenie," he teased her, shaking her softly. That had become a term of endearment since they had babysat Cindy's children for the first time, much to Maureen's chagrin. "Time to wake up."

She moaned sleepily and buried her face in her pillow, her hair falling all over the place again.

"C'mon," he prompted her, stroking the back of her head. Without warning, she rolled back over and stared at Mark with sleepy eyes, disgruntled.

"What are you doing?" she sighed, curling up underneath the blankets.

Mark laughed and moved closer to her. "It's time to get up."

"What time is it?" she asked, shutting her eyes again.

"Six-fifteen," Mark replied, grinning.

Her eyes opened, cattishly peeking over at him before she gave a large yawn. "They have those in the morning now, too?"

Mark stood up, laughing, and scooped Maureen up in his arms. She relished this, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder.

"Sounds like a storm," she noted, closing her eyes and snuggling into his chest.

"Only for the last couple hours," he laughed. "Somebody knows how to sleep."

She shrugged, still half-asleep. "When you got it, you got it."

He set her down when they reached the door and kissed her quickly before instructing her to shut her eyes, which she did so uneasily. Maureen hated surprises. She didn't like not knowing what was happening at any given moment. She needed total control over any situation to feel comfortable. Uncertainty made her nervous, though she'd never let anybody else know that.

Mark wrapped one arm around her waist from behind, and she automatically slipped her hand into his, clutching it tightly.

"Don't peek," he whispered into her ear as he covered her eyes with his other hand, knowing very well that she'd try and see anyway.

She nodded and let out a quiet laugh. "Why?" she whispered back. "What are we doing?"

"You'll see," he replied, smiling, as he led her slowly down the stairs and through the living room to his makeshift candle and lightning-lit picnic. He removed his hand from her face and absentmindedly kissed the side of her head. "You can open them now."

"Too late," she giggled, staring wide-eyed at the scene before her. Bowls of candy, strawberries, and even Cap'n Crunch cereal (which had become a staple dinner food when they were all broke and still living in the loft) were set out on the blanket that was spread out over the floor. A bottle of champagne and two glasses were nearby, too. She plopped down on the ground, smiling. "What's all of this for?"

"Because I kind of like you," he shrugged, sitting down across from her. She took a child-like handful of candy in her hand and held it out for him, but not before grabbing some for herself. He took some and popped them in his mouth, smiling as he watched her excitedly study everything in front of her.

"You're so cute," she told him, crawling forward and sitting down beside him.

Mark blushed slightly and took her hand, kissing it gently. "Want some champagne?"

"_Now_ who's the drunk, Mr. It's Six in the Morning and I Already Need Alcohol in my System," she teased him, resting her chin on his shoulder. She reached out with her left arm and held her hand open. "But yes. Yes I do."

He laughed and grabbed the champagne and glasses, pouring some into both. He handed one to her and picked up the other for himself.

"To us?" he asked, raising his glass.

Maureen's expression clouded and looked puzzlingly at her glass. "What is this all for, Mark? Is this some anniversary that I forgot again? You know I'm not good at this kind of thing. I never remember—"

"Just drink it," he whispered, resting his forehead against hers. "Trust me."

Sighing, she kissed him quickly and took a sip of her champagne before putting it down on the ground. "You're freaking me out, you know that?"

"Am I?"

She laughed and playfully shoved him backwards. "Yeah, you are. Besides, I'm still mad at you because you woke me up so early. I don't even have to work today and I don't even start my designing classes for another two weeks."

Guiltily, he shrugged and smiled sheepishly. "I don't work today either, so we're in the same boat."

She laughed and shook her head, yawning and stretching her arms over her head. She leaned against Mark and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, resting his head against hers.

"I love you," he told her, kissing the top of her head tenderly.

She looked up at him and replied, "Love you too."

Taking a deep breath, Mark shut his eyes and pushed her away gently so that they were facing each other. He took both of her hands in his.

"Why are you shaking?" she asked, laughing. "Cold?"

He shrugged in an attempt to hide his nervousness and smiled again. "You're beautiful."

"Oldest line in the book," she continued to laugh. "You don't think I'm going to fall for that, do you?"

"Well it's true," he rationalized.

She shrugged. "Stop saying that."

"Why?"

She shrugged uncomfortably again and stood up. "Because." She left Mark and went into the kitchen, opening up the refrigerator.

"Now you're mad," he noted, frustrated.

She took out a bottle of juice and put it down on the counter harshly. "Yeah, I am."

Mark sighed and stood up, turning to face her. "Why now?"

"'Why_ now_?'" she repeated, turning to face him. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It's _supposed_ to mean that I can't even do anything nice without you getting suspicious and mad at me!" he shot back, motioning towards her.

She glared at him over the counter as she took out a plastic cup from the cupboard and slammed it down on the counter. "That's not true."

"It is!" he yelled. "I woke up early so I could do all of this for you and you got mad at me!"

"I 'got mad at you' because you have to be such a girl all the time!" she screamed back, throwing the cup at him harshly which he caught as it collided painfully with his stomach. "You drive me crazy! 'Oh, you're so beautiful.' It was nice the first three thousand times, Mark!"

"If I _don't_ call you beautiful you tell me to! You're never happy!"

"How would you know?!" She kicked at the wall underneath the counter, frustrated.

"Because you're always screaming at me!"

"Oh, so now it's all my fault, isn't it? That's always the way it is! I'm in the wrong again, not Mark! He's too perfect to do anything wrong, but Maureen's a screw up anyway, so let's blame her! I hate you!" she shouted at him, gesturing emphatically with her arms.

"Marry me!" he yelled angrily, throwing the plastic cup to the ground.

"Fine!" she screamed back, stomping her foot on the tiled floor.

"Okay!"

"I'm glad!"

"I'm glad you're glad!" Mark yanked the small ring box out of his pocket and walked over to the counter, slamming it down and shoving it over to Maureen. He crossed his arms over his chest in a huff and pouted. "I love you."

She glared at him, then at the ring. "I love you, too."

"Well, good," he retorted coldly, but quieter this time. He made his way around the counter and took the ring out of the box, picking up Maureen's left hand and putting it on her finger, holding it loosely and sliding it on. "Sorry," he shrugged, not letting go of her hand.

"Me too," she shrugged, leaning in and kissing him passionately. She wrapped her arms around his neck, standing on her toes to kiss him. His arms snaked around her waist, pulling her closer to him.

"Ask me again," she breathed after pulling away from him.

"Will you marry me, Maureen?" he asked her, resting his forehead against hers and stroking her cheek gently with his hand.

She shut her eyes and nodded, kissing him gently. "Of course."

Mark smiled, sliding his hands into hers. "So we're engaged?"

Maureen nodded slowly and shrugged, laughing. "I guess we are."

"I like this," he admitted as he held her tightly, almost afraid to let her go.

"Me too," she agreed, practically smiling from ear to ear. She ran her fingers through his blonde hair and trailed her fingers down the back of his neck while she kissed him gently. "What now?" she whispered.

Mark shrugged and blushed slightly, knowing very well what she was implying.

She grinned and kissed him quickly before swirling out of his grasp and scampering into their bedroom. Mark laughed and shook his head, following her into their room.

* * *

Roger knocked harshly on the door of Mark and Maureen's apartment, grumbling to himself.

_"It's open!"_ he heard Mark call from inside. Roger grabbed the doorknob and twisted it firmly, shoving the door open. He stood in the entryway to the living room, soaking wet from the rain outside and staring at Mark and Maureen. After their early morning romp, they had retired to the living room to enjoy what was left of Mark's picnic. Mark was lying down on his back on the blanket with Maureen lying with her head on his stomach.

"I'm engaged!" Maureen announced, holding her hand up in the air and waving it around like a beacon before it flopped back down, hitting Mark in the chest.

"Ow," he squeaked from the floor. Mark pushed himself up onto his elbows and looked over at Roger. "Rog? What're you doing here?"

"I hate April!" he yelled, tearing off his drenched leather jacket and throwing it to the ground as he stormed into the living room, flopping down onto the couch.

"Get off of there," Maureen scolded him, turning over onto all fours and struggling to stand up. She tried to bat him away but gave up quickly, yawning and wandering into the kitchen instead.

"What happened?" Mark asked, sitting up and smoothing the blanket out beside him. He picked up one of the leftover strawberries and popped it in his mouth.

Roger turned and glared at him, the glare quickly softening into a look of fear. He dropped his head into his hands and shook it, sighing deeply. Mark stood up and sat on the arm of the couch by Roger, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"What happened?" he repeated quietly. Roger shot up from his seat and began to pace, mumbling incoherently before plopping down on the opposite side of the couch again.

"April's a fucking liar!" he yelled. Surprised by this sudden change in emotion, Mark and Maureen stared at Roger blankly as he continued, jumping up from the couch again. "She's 'clinically depressed,'" he motioned with finger quotations, "and didn't even tell me! And apparently it's been going on for a couple months already."

"And so you _left_?" Maureen scoffed, uncapping the bottle of orange juice on the counter.

"What the hell else was I supposed to do?!" he yelled back at her, throwing his arms in the air and glaring fiercely at her.

She calmly placed the juice down and picked up the cordless phone from its cradle on the wall. "You are the dumbest man I have ever met," she commented, coming out of the kitchen and rounding the counter. She crossed the room on her way into Mark's office. "I'm going to call her because I'm sure she's not feeling so great right now." She shot a quick glance over to Mark and raised her eyebrows before shutting herself up in the other room.

"She's a bitch, you know," Roger informed Mark, crossing his arms over his chest.

Mark sighed and rolled his eyes. "Yeah," he replied, not really having heard Roger's last comment. He stood up and crossed his arms over his chest, too. "So then what?"

"Then what what?" he retorted.

Mark sat back down at the couch and rolled his eyes standoffishly.

"I didn't _ask_ for your help, Mark."

"Then why are you here?"

Roger stared back at Mark silently before shrugging. "Then we fought and then I came here," he replied to Mark's question earlier.

"So you found out that your wife is depressed and you yelled at her?"

Roger looked down at his feet guiltily. "Maybe."

"The woman is mentally imbalanced and you yelled at her for it?"

"Stop trying to act so holier-than-thou, Mark. You're just a big a screw up as I am."

"Okay," Mark continued calmly, treating Roger as if he was scolding a toddler for drawing on the wall. "But that's not what we're talking about right now. What did she do when you left?"

He shrugged and glanced around the apartment impatiently. "She was crying when I left."

"Why'd you leave?"

"Christ, Mark! I don't know, because she drops this bomb on me that she's a completely different person than who I thought she was? Because I can't even trust my own girlfriend?!"

"She's your wife."

"Fuck!" Roger shouted, flopping down on the couch next to Mark, sighing and resting his head in his hands. "My fault, right?"

His friend shrugged. "It's both of yours. You're both messed up."

"I don't know if I love her," Roger admitted suddenly, looking over at Mark, who looked quickly over at him, surveying his expression.

"What?"

"April. I don't know if I love her. I think I made a mistake. I'm in over my head."

Mark cocked his head sympathetically at his friend and frowned. "Why?"

"We're not good for each other. We just bring each other down. We fight. A lot."

"So do Maureen and I," he rationalized.

"But you're in love. I'm not sure if I am."

* * *

"Sweetie," Maureen spoke into the phone, "Me and Mark fight all the time. Just because you two fight doesn't mean he doesn't love you." She rested her feet on top of Mark's desk and leaned back into his black faux leather desk chair.

_"What if I rushed into this? I mean, I was pretty stupid to marry him in the first place. We'd only been dating for four months."_

Maureen remained silent on her end of the phone, unsure of what to say until April spoke up again, quietly.

_"I don't know if I love him anymore. Don't get me wrong, I do love Roger. Just not in that way. I feel like every fight we have is my fault. It's usually because I lied to him and didn't tell him something."_

Maureen looked up from her fingernails and shook her head, even though she knew April couldn't see it. "No, it's usually his fault. He goes out of his way to create confrontation."

_"I don't know…"_

Maureen sighed and shut her eyes. She liked April, but sometimes found it annoying how often she'd want to talk to her or hang out with her. She wasn't very good at giving advice and could usually fudge her way out of it smoothly, but it was different with April. She'd drag on conversations, as if trying to pry out the answer Maureen didn't have out of her.

Needless to say, Maureen was relieved when the office door opened and Mark poked his head into the room.

"One sec, okay April?"

_"Sure…"_

"You on the phone with April?" he whispered.

She nodded and covered the mouthpiece, handing the phone in Mark's direction.

"Take it," she whispered back. "I don't know what to say anymore."

Mark laughed quietly and crouched down beside Maureen, resting his head on her knee. "Me either. Roger wants to talk to her."

"Roger!" Maureen called, holding the phone to the door. Roger immediately appeared and tore the phone out of her hand, leaving the room and slamming the door behind him.

"What a way to spend the day we get engaged, eh?"

Maureen nodded and stroked the back of his head, shutting her eyes again. "What would we be doing today if we weren't doing this?"

"I don't know," Mark began. "But you want to know a secret?"

"Yeah," she admitted as Mark stood up and the pair rearranged themselves so that he was now sitting in the chair with Maureen in his lap.

"I had this big hot air balloon ride and picnic set up for us for today," he told her, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder.

"You did?" she asked, resting her head on his shoulder. "Why?"

"Because I love you. I wanted you to remember it."

She smiled and intertwined their fingers together. "I'd remember it no matter what."

* * *

"I just wish you'd have told me earlier," Roger sighed, rubbing his temples with his hand.

_"I know. I know I messed up big time. I should have, but I'm--"_

"You what? You've been keeping things like this from me through our whole relationship. You're suicidal, you're depressed. What's next, you killed someone? You're pregnant?"

April remained silent on the other end of the phone and Roger's eyes went wide.

"You _are_ pregnant, aren't you? I knew it…"

_"No!"_ she cried back. _"I wish you'd just let me talk!"_

"Fine," he retorted. "Go."

_"The reason I didn't tell you these things is because I knew you'd overreact like this. No, just let me talk!"_ she yelled when Roger tried to comment. _"You always do this; I tell you something and you freak out then leave. I figured… I figured that if I didn't tell you I wouldn't have to worry about you acting irrationally."_

"So instead you wanted to save it for a rainy day?"

_"I didn't want you to find it out this way."_

"You're the one who's always saying that married people tell each other everything."

_"I know. I made a mistake, okay? Now you know everything. Can we please just move on?"_

"Move on? Move on from what? You lying to me left and right? I can't just put this aside, you know."

_"Oh, don't make this seem like it's entirely my fault. If you weren't so damn unapproachable this wouldn't be happening!"_

"Unapproachable? What? If I'm so fucking intimidating why are you married to me?!"

_"I don't know,"_ she answered honestly.

Roger felt like somebody punched him hard and knocked the wind out of him. She didn't know why she married him? Even though he had admitted that he wasn't sure if he loved her just minutes before, her comment still hurt.

"Hey, listen…" he began quietly. "I'm gonna come home now. We're gonna talk this all through and make up, okay?"

He heard her sniffle on her end of the line. _"Yeah."_

"We can order some food, just be together. It'll be just us. We'll get through this, I promise."

* * *

Review, please!


	39. Chapter 39

**Author's Note:** Major writer's block and three days to learn lines for a one act play made this chapter late. The one act play went really well, though! Enjoy...

**Chapter 39**

_April_

"How are you holding up?" Mark asked, holding Maureen's hand loosely.

She shrugged. "Alright. Your family hates me, though."

With news of their engagement, Mark had convinced Maureen to take a trip out to Scarsdale with him to tell his parents. She wasn't too keen on the idea, but Mark had managed to persuade her otherwise. They had arrived early on in the afternoon, and had currently just finished eating dinner. Even Mark's sister Cindy, her husband, and their three children came for dinner, too, making it an entire family affair. This had made both of them feel intimidated, but they carried on nonetheless.

Dessert wasn't ready yet, and so after dinner Mark and Maureen went for a walk around his neighbourhood, Mark showing her where all his old friends used to live.

"They don't hate you," Mark laughed. "My dad loves you. He thinks you're the best thing since sliced bread."

"I _am_, though," she laughed, shoving him gently. "Your sister hates me," she shrugged.

"Well I have a secret for you," he admitted. "My sister is a bitch. She doesn't like anybody."

"I don't know," Maureen sighed, resting her head on her fiancé's shoulder as they walked down the sidewalk. "But I _do_ know that was the biggest meal I've had in a very long time."

He squeezed her hand gently and smiled as they rounded the corner back onto his street. "Good." He noticed his mother standing at the edge of the driveway on their property, looking from left to right.

"There you are!" she yelled down the way. "The cake is all done honey!"

"Oh God…" Mark sighed, looking down at his feet. "If you don't want to marry me anymore I completely understand."

Maureen laughed and kissed his cheek. "Of course I do… but you're the one who gets to break the news. I'm afraid your mom and sister will kick my ass if I say _anything_ to them."

"I'll protect you," he reassured her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and giving them a gentle squeeze.

"My white knight," she giggled.

Before long, Mark and Maureen found themselves seated at the Cohen's dining room table, Cindy sitting on the other side of Mark with her five-and-a-half moth old son, Eli. Across from them on the other side of the table, Cindy's husband Michael sat, anchored by their three-year-old twin son and daughter, Jamie and Cathy. Mrs. Cohen sat at the head of the table, with Mr. Cohen opposite to her.

Maureen took a nervous sip of her coffee and glanced over at Mark, who squeezed her hand gently underneath the table. They hadn't told his family about their engagement yet, but planned to do so as soon as the conversation shifted in that direction.

"Oh, guess what Marky? Aunt Janine called me the other day and told me cousin Cassie's coming for a visit from Buffalo," Cindy commented as she placed a forkful of chocolate cake in her mouth, Eli clutching tightly onto her other thumb.

"Cassandra," Mrs. Cohen sighed. "She was always so sweet. Remember when she used to come over and you three would play in the pool all day long in your little swim suits? My, that must have been almost… fifteen years ago."

"Time flies," Mark nodded. He nudged Maureen in the shoulder gently. "You should meet her. She'd love you."

Maureen smiled and gave a nervous laugh, nodding slowly.

"Is that the rental car out there?" Mr. Cohen asked, noting the oncoming tension. He peered out the window at the silver Honda parked behind the old station wagon in the driveway. "It's pretty nice."

Mark shook his head proudly. "We— I bought it almost a month ago."

"It's really nice," Cindy commented.

"Yes, it is," Mrs. Cohen agreed.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Cindy frowned, looking over at Michael. "You see him every day at work."

He shrugged as Cathy crawled onto his lap, reaching over to tug on Jamie's sleeve. "I don't know…"

She scoffed and rocked the restless Eli's carrier, trying to calm him down.

"It's really nice inside, too," Maureen chimed in. Mark's mother shot her an icy glare and Maureen quickly averted her eyes down into her lap.

"Can I get you anymore cake?" Mr. Cohen asked, noticing her discomfort, "Or coffee?"

"No thanks," she shrugged, smiling slightly as she looked up at him. Mark noticed the odd change in personality and laughed to himself. Usually Maureen was quite the opposite of how she was acting right now -- quiet, shy and nervous. She was hardly ever this polite.

"Do you not like my cake?" Mrs. Cohen asked haughtily.

Maureen looked up at her, shocked, and frowned. "No, it's not that. I'm just full from dinner."

"Yeah, dinner was really great," Mark jumped in, taking the attention away from the nervous and unsure Maureen.

"Yeah, mom," Cindy chimed in, standing up. She sensed the on-coming drama, too. She may not have liked Maureen, but she didn't want to see her mother start yelling at a complete stranger. "Cathy never eats potatoes, but that's all she ate today." She picked up Eli out of his carrier and cradled him tenderly in her arms. "I'm going to go and put him down in Marky's old room."

Mrs. Cohen smiled contently as if that was all the reassurement she needed and removed her napkin from her lap, placing it on the table. "Can I get anybody else anything to eat? Mark? You look so skinny."

He rolled his eyes and laughed. "I'm fine mom, thanks."

She cut another piece of cake and lifted it out and onto Mark's plate. "I'm sure you're not eating very much at that little apartment of yours."

He waved his hands in front of him to stop her. "No, no, I am, trust me," he laughed, "Lots of food. Especially because we have jobs now." He looked over to Michael (who got him the job at the advertising agency he worked at), but he was too occupied with the twins to have noticed.

"My little boy's all grown up," she smiled, beckoning him to eat the cake. Mark sighed and picked up his fork, digging into it.

"Where do you work, Maureen?" Mr. Cohen asked, trying to include her into the conversation.

"Um, right now I'm a waitress at a restaurant, but I'm going to start taking some classes at a school in Manhattan to become an interior designer," she replied nervously.

He smiled, "Really? That should be interesting."

"Yeah, I hope so," she laughed, feeling more at ease even though she could feel Mrs. Cohen's eyes on her. "After about a year I should be able to design on my own, but they put you in with a firm during the classes like an intern, so you get to work with real designers and kind of help them out."

"We'll have to have you over to redo the basement," he laughed.

"Yeah," Mark agreed. "Shag carpeting isn't so hot."

Mrs. Cohen nodded in agreement. "I always wanted some nice hardwood flooring down there."

"Who knows," her husband laughed, "Maybe we'll have a designer in the family to do that for us."

"She's not _in_ the family," she reminded him coldly.

"Actually," Mark began, his voice faltering. He cleared his throat and averted his eyes from his mom. "We're going to get married."

"What?" Mrs. Cohen gaped.

"Congratulations, kids!" Mr. Cohen smiled. "That's great news!"

"Yeah guys," Michael added. "That's so great."

"Congratulations," Mrs. Cohen retorted sarcastically, picking up her plate. She piled a few other plates onto it and stood up from her seat.

Maureen bit her lip uncomfortably and Mark nudged her in the side.

"Can I help?" she asked, standing up quickly and collecting the remaining plates.

"That's fine dear, just put them down," she smirked, finally noticing the diamond ring on her left hand. She turned on her heel and left the dining room.

Maureen sighed and sat back down in her chair, setting the plates down in front of her. "Sorry…"

"It's not your fault," Mark tried, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and kissing the top of her head.

"It's mine," Mr. Cohen reassured her.

She still looked skeptical, but agreed anyway. "She hates me."

Cindy wandered back into the dining room, plopping down next to Mark. "Where'd mom go?" she asked, noticing her absence.

"Dishes," Michael replied, finally jumping into conversation after having witnessed the previous scene.

"And you didn't help?" she scolded Mark. She stood back up and yanked the plates away from Maureen's place, leaving the dining room in a huff.

"I swear. There's something wrong with the Cohen women," Mark commented. "They need to relax."

Michael nodded.

"Should we all go sit down in the living room?" Mr. Cohen suggested. They all agreed it was a good idea and retired to the other room. Maureen sat down next to Mark on the love seat by the front window and he promptly took her hand in his.

"I love you," he whispered, kissing her hand tenderly.

"Love you too," she replied, shifting away from him on the couch.

Mark studied her face, feeling horrible about the uncomfortable position she was in. Even when she was scared out of her mind, Mark still found her to be the most beautiful person he knew. He was lucky to have her.

After talking with Mr. Cohen and Michael for a few minutes, Jamie wandered over to Maureen and asked to sit with her. She sat on the couch in the living room with Jamie situated on her lap, and he sat having a conversation about day care with Maureen and Mark for the past several minutes.

The more she watched them from the doorway, the more Cindy couldn't help but think that they'd eventually have a sweet family of their own one day. Her mother had told her about their engagement and Cindy knew she had to be mad about it, she just couldn't think why. She knew that Maureen was less-than a great girlfriend to Mark in the past, but Mark wouldn't stay with her -- let alone ask her to marry him -- if she was still being difficult. Her brother wasn't stupid, and she was pretty sure he knew what she was getting himself into.

Mark stood up from the couch and made his way out of the room, not meeting Cindy's eyes as he left. She laughed to herself and entered the living room, sitting down beside Maureen.

"Hi," she greeted her.

"Hi."

"Congratulations… about getting engaged."

Maureen looked up at her and frowned. "Thanks."

"You'll make a beautiful bride."

She unwrapped her arms from around Jamie as he crawled over to his mother and crossed her arms over her chest, unsure of how to respond to Cindy.

"If you need anything, like planning or invitations, I'd love to help out," Cindy offered, smiling.

Maureen shrugged and stared down at her hands, unsure as to why Cindy was suddenly being so pleasant. "Thanks."

She sighed dreamily. "I've still got the numbers for the people who did our flowers and our catering when I got married. They were really good." When Maureen didn't respond, she continued. "There are tons of good places to buy dresses in the city, so you probably won't have a problem," she laughed, "When do you want to get married?"

"Well," Maureen began quietly. "We were thinking of having a summer wedding on the beach this August. There's a really nice resort on Long Island where we'd have it."

"That sounds so nice!" Cindy gushed.

"Yeah."

Cindy rearranged Jamie on her lap and cocked her head at Maureen, almost sympathetically.

Maureen couldn't help but think she wanted something.

"Look, I know you think I don't like you—"

"You don't."

"No, I do! I do!" she reassured her. "It's just… Marky is my baby brother. I want the best for him."

"And I'm not…"

She shook her head and smiled. "No, you're wonderful. I just don't want Mark to get hurt."

"Neither do I," Maureen rationalized, shrugging. "I _do_ love him."

"I know. I know that now you love him and you're good for each other."

Maureen stared back at her, unsure of whether or not to laugh at her or hug her. She tucked her feet underneath her and glanced over at Cindy quickly, nodding.

"And I guess now I'm excited to have a sister-in-law. I don't have a sister, so it's really cool," she smiled in attempt to make amends.

Finally a small smile spread across Maureen's face. The genuineness of Cindy's words convinced her that there were no ulterior motives and that Cindy really just was sorry.

"Neither have I," Maureen shrugged, smiling. "I guess it is pretty neat."

"Yeah," Cindy agreed. "And I mean, I really would love to help you plan everything. I guess if you want to have it in the summer you have a lot to do, so…"

She nodded. "We've been talking about a really small wedding, though. Partly because we want it that way, and partly because we don't have a lot of money," she laughed.

"It's a good reason," Cindy smiled.

Maureen smiled back. Cindy down, Mrs. Cohen to go.

* * *

Mark and Maureen left the Cohen household at about ten o'clock that evening, having spent the time after dinner in the living room with the rest of the family. Cindy had continuously offered Maureen help with planning the wedding, never hesitating to reassure her that she knew what she was doing. Mark had managed to convince his mother that her little boy was all grown up and he could marry who he wanted to without rocking the boat too much. The couple left about twenty-five minutes after Cindy's family, and it had taken them forty-five minutes to get back to the city. When they got home, Mark flopped down in front of the television in the living room while Maureen took a quick shower. Before long, she was finished and they both retired to the bedroom.

"Thanks for putting up with them today," Mark yawned as he swung back the covers on the bed. He sat down on it and fell back into the pillows, exhausted from a day of traveling and dealing with his family.

"No problem," Maureen replied, toweling her hair off. She dropped the towel in the clothing hamper by the door to the ensuite bathroom and flopped onto the bed on her stomach. "You're just lucky I like you," she teased.

Mark rubbed her back gently as she shimmied underneath the covers and snuggled closer to him. "So, Cindy wants to help plan the wedding? Expect a lot of pink and girly crap like that."

Maureen shrugged and rolled over onto her side, her back towards Mark. She faked a yawn and shut her eyes. "I'm going to have to crack the whip."

He laughed and wrapped an arm around her stomach, turning her onto her back so he could kiss her gently, and he shut his eyes too.

"Night."

"Night Marky."

Maureen kept her eyes shut, but found her self unable to get to sleep. She waited until she was sure Mark had fallen asleep before wriggling out of his grasp and crawling out of bed. She crept out of the bedroom and into the living room, quietly sneaking into the kitchen. She grabbed a clean cup from the dish rack and poured some tap water into it, taking a few sips before continuing through the living room over to the large windows. After yanking one open, Maureen crawled out onto the fire escape and carefully sat down, propping herself up against the wall. She was worn out from the day, but she still couldn't fall asleep.

Taking another sip of her water, Maureen's eyes caught on her ring. She set the cup down and took the ring off, studying it in her hand. It was a platinum band with an emerald-cut diamond. Mark obviously spent a lot of money on it, but Maureen couldn't help but feel guilty wearing it. She also couldn't help but think what her life would be like now if she hadn't screwed up her relationship with Joanne.

They had become good friends within the last few months, often meeting up for lunches or coffee together. They still grated each other's nerves, but both learned to deal with it. Maureen knew that Joanne wasn't interested in a romantic relationship with her anymore -- she had found a new girlfriend and was very happy -- but Maureen still regretted their break up. Their entire relationship hadn't happened under good terms, of course, but if given another chance, Maureen thought it might be a little better.

She wasn't sure if she wanted to marry Mark yet. Spending time with his family definitely gave her a different perspective. She hadn't been around a real family like that in a very long time and it made her feel strange. If she married Mark, they would eventually have a family like that, too. She was nervous, to say the least, and she was constantly trying to imagine her life with Joanne. How different would it be?

Maureen slid her ring into the kangaroo pocket on the front of her sweatshirt and took a final gulp of her water. She stood up and poured the rest of the water into a pot of red flowers that Mark had brought home for her the other day. She crawled back into the living room and placed her cup on the counter before creeping back into the bedroom. She yawned silently and slid into bed beside Mark. Mark stirred slightly as she planted a kiss his cheek, and she pulled the blanket up over them both, watching him sleep peacefully before falling asleep herself.

* * *

**[Coming up]** Maureen discusses her cold feet with Joanne, April and Roger struggle to remain happy together, and Mark knows something Maureen doesn't know, and he's not telling.

Please review!****


	40. Chapter 40

**Author's Note:** Thank you thank you thank you for all the awesome reviews. You all keep me writing. Thanks to Mari (& all the Benny love), the-fraulein, Aerial 312, Alana, Meg, Christina13, and Jennie – and everybody else who's reading or reviewed. You are all so fantastic and I'm so glad you like this. The story's going to start winding down soon (but not too soon) since I can't seem to keep up with it, so expect some very action-packed chapters coming up in the future.

**ps**, Don't worry – there'll be more Benny/Mimi, along with some development on both Maureen and Roger's families.

* * *

**Chapter 40**

_May_

_"I can't wait to meet April."_

"She's pretty cool," Roger reassured his mother over the phone as he sat comfortably on the couch.

_"'Pretty cool?'"_ she laughed. _"That's all?"_

"You know what I mean."

_"I just hope she didn't hear you say that."_

Roger shrugged. "When do you think you'll be here?"

_"In about an hour and a half,"_ she told him._ "We'll leave soon. I hope traffic won't be too bad."_

"We?"

Ms. Davis paused. _"I'm bringing my new boyfriend. I hope that's okay."_

Roger was taken aback. "No, that's cool. Since when do you have a new boyfriend?"

_"Oh, just a little while. You'll like him. He's a lot like you in some ways."_

"I like him already," he laughed.

_"Good. Sweetie, I'm going to go and get ready to leave. I'll see you soon, okay?"_

"Alright. Bye."

_"Love you."_

Roger hung up the phone and tossed it beside him on the couch and glanced over at April who was leaning over the counter reading the day's newspaper. A month ago, they had a big fight and Roger was sure that they were both leaning towards divorce. They hadn't, having worked through their issues, but Roger found himself walking on pins and needles around April, and he knew she felt the same way.

"They're leaving soon," he told April. "My mom has a gentleman friend."

She laughed. "What?"

"A boyfriend. It's weird. People her age don't date."

April shrugged and closed the newspaper, folding it up.

"She's never really dated since she had me. She tried to when she was like, eighteen, nineteen, you know? But she hasn't really had a real boyfriend since my dad…and that was like, twenty five years ago. We've never been through this kind of thing."

She nodded, not really paying attention. "Do you think they'll mind if we order in?"

"Nah," he shook his head. "My mom knows we're not big on cooking."

"She's going to think I don't know how to take care of you," she frowned.

"No she won't," Roger sighed, standing up from the couch. He strolled into the kitchen and stood beside his wife. "She'll love you."

She remained silent, studying the newspaper that lay on the counter in front of her. Roger hesitantly wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled April in for a hug.

"She will. I promise."

* * *

Maureen pushed a French fry through the blob of ketchup on her plate and popped it in her mouth. She glanced up at Joanne who sat on the other side of the table in the small diner where they had agreed to meet that day for lunch.

"I still can't believe you and Mark are getting married!" Joanne exclaimed. "I'm so happy for you."

Maureen gave a quiet smile and stared down into her nearly empty plate.

"That ring is so beautiful," she continued, "And a beach wedding will be just lovely. I hope the weather agrees with you so you won't have to move it inside. He's Jewish, right? Do you think you'll have a traditional Jewish ceremony, or try and have a mixed wedding? What's the resort called, again?"

"Gurney's Inn."

"And it's on Long Island, right?"

Maureen nodded.

"You're going to have to send out invitation soon, aren't you? Have you picked any out?"

She shook her head.

"Can I help?"

Nod.

"Are you excited?"

Maureen shrugged and nodded again. "I guess."

"You guess?" Joanne laughed. "What do you mean, you guess?"

Maureen sighed and looked up at her friend. "Do you ever miss… us?"

Joanne cocked her head at Maureen and frowned. "Is that what this is about?"

"Just answer the question."

"No, I don't," Joanne answered honestly.

Maureen was shocked. "You don't?"

"No."

"Well why not?!" Maureen asked, surprised.

"Do you not _remember_ our relationship, Maureen? It wasn't exactly a walk in the park."

"So? It was just the weird circumstances. It could be different."

Shaking her head, Joanne replied, "No it couldn't, Maureen."

"How do you know?"

"We're too different. We can barely be _friends_ without fighting."

Maureen gasped melodramatically. "We aren't fighting!"

Her friend stared at her as if she had just grown an extra head, but continued anyway. "I love you Maureen, but not like that anymore. You're with Mark now."

"But what if I wasn't—"

"You're with Mark," Joanne repeated, cutting her off. "And up until today, you've talked about him like he was the greatest person alive. I don't know what made you all of the sudden change your mind, but change it back. Don't start stressing out about this, it's just cold feet."

"How would you know?" Maureen asked haughtily, crossing her arms over her chest and pouting. "Maybe you don't know me as well as you think you do."

Joanne sighed. "Yes I do, and you love Mark. You're just afraid of commitment."

"Says who?" Maureen asked, though it was said more as a standoffish comment.

"Maureen, you love him and you know it. Have you talked to him about this?"

She continued to pout. "No, he'll think I don't want to marry him anymore."

"So you obviously don't want him to think otherwise," Joanne pointed out. "You're nervous. It's understandable."

"I am not. I don't get nervous; I just want to keep my options open."

"Shut up," Joanne laughed. "Just admit it – you're nervous."

"Am not."

"Maureen," she prompted.

"God!" she exclaimed. "Well sor_ry_! I'm twenty three. Twenty three! Most people my age aren't dating exclusively let alone getting married, okay? So sue me!"

Joanne chuckled. "You're nervous, I knew it!"

"Of course you would know, Ms. Ivy League lawyer. Shove it Joanne, stop laughing. It's not funny. I mean, I'll never be single again! I'll never sleep with anybody else, or be able to flirt with anybody else—"

Joanne snorted.

"Shut up! I haven't cheated on him _once _since we got back together. You know that? Not once! You think you're so smart, but you're not helping! What do I do?!"

"Marry him," Joanne suggested the obvious answer.

"You know, you suck at giving advice," Maureen commented, taking a sip of her water.

She shrugged. "You _do_ love him. You're just nervous. You tell me all the cute little things he does for you all the time – he brings you flowers, he takes you out for lunch, treats you like a goddess. He's everything you want. Hell, he's everything I want… Just, in a man."

Maureen stifled a laugh.

"Seriously," Joanne continued, leaning in and looking Maureen in the eye. "Don't think about what might have been, because it won't help. You can't change the past, Maureen. I mean, I wonder what life would have been like if I'd stayed with you too, and I think it would have been a lot more stressful. I think we're just better off as friends. You're with Mark now, and he's perfect for you. You two will be really happy together, I promise."

"You sure?" Maureen asked, slightly skeptic.

She nodded. "I'm sure. Lately, you're the happiest you've been ever since I met you, and it's because of Mark. When you're around me, you talk about him all the time. If that's not love, I really don't know what is."

Giving a small smile, Maureen nodded. "I guess."

"You're lucky to have him. Don't mess up what you have with Mark because of the past. Just live in the moment."

"You're so lame," she laughed, shaking her head. "Oh God…"

Joanne sighed. "You ask for help, I give you help. Don't make fun of my advice. It was damn good advice."

"Yeah," Maureen agreed, still laughing. "Thanks." She popped another French fry in her mouth and made a face at Joanne.

* * *

Maureen dropped her keys onto the table across from the door after entering her apartment. She took off her coat and hooked it over the doorknob to the closet on her left, calling out,

"Marky?"

Walking up the few stairs to the living room, she smiled when she saw Mark come out from his study.

"Hey," he smiled, opening his arms.

"Hey baby," Maureen smiled, accepting his hug and wrapping her arms tightly around him. "I love you."

"Love you too," he replied, picking her up a few inches off the ground as she kissed him. He carried her over to the couch and set her down, sitting down next to her. She proceeded to swing her legs over his lap and rest her head against his shoulder. Snaking his arms protectively around her, Mark kissed the side of Maureen's head gently and shut his eyes, resting his head against hers.

Mark smiled. "How was lunch?"

"Great," she replied, "Really good. I should take you to the diner we went to. It was so yummy."

Mark nodded in agreement. "How's Joanne?"

"She's good, said she'll be my maid of honour. You know why?"

"Why?" Mark asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

Maureen stuck out her left hand and wiggled her fingers in front of Mark's face, "Because we're getting married!"

He laughed and buried his face in her shoulder.

"In three months," she continued. "Are you excited?"

"Very," he nodded, "Can't wait. It's going to be awesome."

She laughed and nodded, snuggling in closer to him.

"Guess who called me?"

"Who?"

"Cindy," Mark laughed, shaking his head. "She wants to know if we can sit for her next Wednesday. Apparently Michael's cousin is getting married and she doesn't want to take the kids with them."

Maureen giggled. "Did you say yes?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "She's my sister. She'd probably tell on me if I said no, anyway."

"It's so weird," Maureen commented, linking her and Mark's hands together. "Usually I hate kids, but I love them."

"They're cute. I don't think I'd ever want that many, though."

She nodded. "Three's a lot. Just one for me."

"Me too."

"Would you want a boy or a girl?" Maureen asked, shutting her eyes as Mark began stroking her hair.

"I don't know," he replied. He continued carelessly, already have thinking this through before, "Maybe a little girl. We'd drive her to ballet lessons and take her to the zoo…"

Maureen nodded in agreement and smiled. "I want a baby girl, too."

"Then we're on the same page," he laughed.

"Yeah," she sighed dreamily. _Finally._

* * *

"I wonder what he's like," Roger mused aloud. April stole a sideways glance at him as they both sat on the high stools at the counter in the kitchen.

"You'll find out soon enough," she shrugged.

"But like, is he older than her? Younger? I don't know anything about this guy. You think she'd tell me these kinds of things."

April frowned stubbornly. "You didn't tell her about me until we were married."

He looked over at her and furrowed his eyebrows. "That's not true. Don't start this. They're going to be here soon."

She nodded appeasingly and rolled her eyes, studying her fingernails.

They sat in an awkward silence for what seemed like an eternity until a knock came at the front door. Roger shot up from the barstools at the counter to answer it.

"That'll be them," he told April. She stood up and straightened her skirt and ran her hands over her hair, which was neatly tied into a ponytail in the back of her head.

"Do I look okay?" she asked.

Roger threw a glance over his shoulder and nodded. "You look fine."

She nodded and followed him to the door as he opened it up. On the other side stood a tall brunette woman. She was shorter than Roger, but not by much. Her dark brown hair was no longer than her shoulders, and tucked behind both her ears. She wore a light blue dress and a smile.

"Roger!"

"Hi, mom," he smiled, hugging her loosely. "How are you?"

"Oh, I'm fine. And this must be April?" she asked, peeking past Roger into the apartment. He opened the door wider and Ms. Davis and her boyfriend came into the apartment.

April stuck out her hand for a handshake. "Hi."

"It's so good to meet you," Ms. Davis smiled, hugging her instead. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Only good I hope," she laughed nervously.

She nodded. "Roger," she sighed, taking his hand. "This is my boyfriend, Sam."

"Hey," Roger greeted him. He was tall, too, but still not as tall as Roger. He had dirty blonde hair with a few grey strands peeking through. He was about the same size as Roger, and found he had the same green eyes. Roger laughed to himself while shaking his hand.

"Good to meet you," he smiled.

"Roger…" Ms. Davis began, refusing to meet his gaze. He didn't understand her shift in emotion. Now she suddenly seemed nervous.

"Sam is your dad."

* * *


End file.
